Take My Hand
by Sillimaure
Summary: A rescue mission goes awry and the last Jedi Knight must fight to save the lives of his friends - and the soul of a woman he has never met. As their lives intertwine, they discover that sometimes even the Force must give way to a greater power. COMPLETE!
1. Prologue

Take My Hand

**Take My Hand**

**Prologue**

Feeling the slight trickle of moisture on her forehead, the dancer lifted her hand to her head, grimacing with distaste when her hand came away wet with the faint sheen of her perspiration as she cursed under her breath at the oppressive heat of the dual Tatooine suns.

_Damn, Force forsaken planet!_ she thought again for what seemed like the hundredth time.

Even the dim lighting and gently blowing breeze in the throne room of Jabba's palace, a daily concession to the intense heat of the early-afternoon Tatooine suns, was not enough to reduce the temperature to a more comfortable level. At least her costume was not a problem. She was dressed – if it could be called that – in a tight, black fishnet costume, with blue silk accents, strategically placed over her breasts and hanging from her hips, giving the suggestion of hedonistic sensuality. It did not leave much to the imagination.

Not for the first time, she wondered how he – or _anyone_ for that matter – could have lived in this oven for the first eighteen years of his life.

She sighed and leaned back against the wall, slightly perturbed at the necessity of waiting for something to happen. Normally she would not allow herself the luxury of such a lapse of discipline while on a mission, but in this case she knew it would only help her cover – the dancer she was portraying was not known for her steel nerves and boundless patience. The dancer was an entertainer extraordinaire, a sensual goddess, although a little down on her luck as evidenced by her willingness to work in this sandy hole.

She snorted softly at the thought of someone actually working here of their own free will, wondering who in their right mind would want to work for a Hutt if they were _not _desperate. She glanced around briefly, knowing there were dancers here who had worked for the Hutt for many years and enjoyed the notoriety and luxury – not to mention the money – which Jabba provided for them. Jabba did look after his dancers in his way, but to her way of thinking it was simply not enough to counterbalance all the negatives this _job_ carried, not to mention the consequences of displeasing the bloated crime lord.

She was seated with some of the other dancers on a bench against the wall, left of Jabba's enormous throne. The throne room was quiet, almost peaceful for the moment, a change from its normal raucous atmosphere, where the gangster's henchmen all seemed determined to outdo each other with their carousing, boasting and tales of their own brutality. The tranquility, however, was not to last, as Jabba normally awoke from his afternoon nap at about this hour, ready for an evening of music, entertainment and stuffing himself full of his favorite foods. Around the darkened confines of the throne room she could see his guards, thugs and sycophants as they lounged around, most copying their master's practice of napping during the early afternoon hours, although a few were talking together in low voices.

She glanced over at the throne, to where the massive, bulbous form of Jabba the Hutt lay dozing, the chain of his favorite slave held tightly in one meaty hand. Not for the first time she found herself thanking the Force that Jabba did not seem to go for redheads – he had not paid her any special attention, reserving his interest for his favorites. He seemed to prefer his many Twi-leks, Rodians, Yarna D'al Gargan his six-breasted Askajian dancer, or the occasional dark-haired human. She had found herself largely shunted to the side, called on to do little more than dance with the rest of the troupe – never having to be the center of the Hutt's lecherous attentions – a good thing considering being a favorite of the crime lord entailed little more than slavery. Though Jabba enjoyed their dancing and seemed to be almost aroused at times, she could not help but wonder what he thought he could do with them, their physiological differences making any sort of dalliance problematic at best.

She shuddered at the thought of _any _sort of physical relationship with the monstrous slug.

Determined to remove from her mind the images assaulting her senses, she focused on Jabba's current favorite, who lounged back against Jabba, constrained as she was by the heavy chain attached to the collar around her neck. She was merely a slave, not a dancer, and her arrival here had been both unconventional and unfortunate for the young woman. She had read the woman's entire dossier several times over – the woman was one of the Master's most hated and implacable enemies, one of the leaders of the rebellion and former Princess of the now destroyed world of Alderaan.

She firmly held her thoughts of the destruction of Alderaan at arms length, aware that if the Emperor ever discovered what she thought of the whole Alderaan mess, he would consider them traitorous. She focused instead on the petite, pretty woman lying in the clutches of the vile gangster. The woman was nothing if not brave and audacious. Her ill-fated rescue attempt of her rumored paramour from the previous night had been ill-conceived in its conception and poorly carried out – if she herself had been so careless and reckless in her missions, she would long ago have become an ex-assassin. Still, the woman had spunk and she could not but admire her for it.

As she sat contemplating the other woman, the slave suddenly glanced in her direction. As their eyes met, something passed between them – something she could not put a name to, but she was certain in that instant that the other had seen more in her than she had been willing to reveal. She was suddenly aware that the other was a very dangerous woman, one who had been fighting for her very survival for most of her adult life.

Unnerved by the woman's piercing stare but unwilling to show any reaction at all, she casually looked away, closing her eyes and concentrating on the Force. Her training was patchy and incomplete – her Master had only taught her the things he felt necessary for her to perform her duties – but she knew and had learned enough on her own to know the Force was strangely amplified and vibrant. The air was charged with expectation, and a whisper of excitement tickled her senses – a portent in the Force that something was about to happen. She was certain it was.

_He_ was on his way. If there was one thing her files had been clear on, it was that the man was loyal to his friends to a fault. He would not leave them to rot in Jabba's palace; in fact, the woman's infiltration of the gangster's den may have simply been a prelude to the Jedi's arrival, though why they would send her in to be caught by Jabba was beyond her comprehension.

No, he was coming and soon. Whether he actually had the skill to release his friends in the face of the gangster's vile minions was another story. The Emperor had been adamant about this man's danger to the Empire, but privately, she was unconvinced of his importance. The Jedi were gone – there was no one left to help him and whatever his delusions of grandeur were, she was certain that he could only have taught himself so much. In her master, and to a lesser extent his lackey, she had been witness to a true mastery of the Force. He could not have become such an all-consuming threat in such a short period of time with no one to teach him.

In light of this, she was willing to bide her time, watching from the background, studying her enemy from a distance and if the Hutt managed to dispose of her adversary for her, so much the better. Her anonymity would be protected and extraction from the Hutt's operations would be much easier. If he turned out to be more than expected, she could take a more active role in his elimination.

With these thoughts running through her mind, she allowed her consciousness to wander along with the flow of the Force, feeling its currents and eddies, drifting, floating in its embrace. As she had noted earlier, the Force was more alive than she had ever before experienced, allowing her greater access and understanding in turn. She sensed the inhabitants of the immediate area – Jabba's minions – as well as the sparse life forms which clung to existence in the harsh environment of the desert planet. The desert life she took no notice of; the gangsters, little more. The woman restrained in front of the monstrous Hutt glowed in the Force, although she was not believed to be Force sensitive, while her companions were only slightly less visible.

As she cast her senses higher over the landscape of the planet, she was immediately drawn to another Force presence – one the like of which she had never before experienced. It was a beacon, calling her, whispering to her of things of which she had no comprehension, beckoning her with images of her past, promises for the future.

Her eyes snapped open and she stared sightlessly across the room. He was almost here and she immediately felt her body tense up with trepidation as well as a certain anticipation.

Calming herself, she forced herself to consider him in a coldly analytical fashion. His Force presence was bright and pure, shining with the intensity of the suns beating down on the planet's surface. She had never come into contact with a presence so distinctive, so _compelling_; she wondered at the effect he would have on her when he was actually in the same room.

Putting his disturbing presence aside for the moment, she forced herself to compare him with the others of her acquaintance. By contrast to his brilliance, her Master's presence was dark – black as onyx and cold as a Hoth Blizzard. As for the only other Force sensitive of her acquaintance – her Master's henchman – his presence, while dark was also shot through with flickering flames and tiny bursts of light. In short, neither was anything like the presence she had just experienced. The only other experience on which she could draw was a Jedi which they had hunted several years previously. This woman had been one of the last Jedi to be uncovered, as she recalled, and her Master had insisted on her accompanying his lackey, much to the black giant's displeasure. The woman they had caught up with and eventually killed had also had a signature steeped in the light, but nothing compared with the nova which was even now approaching the throne room.

Painfully aware she may have made a mistake in dismissing this man's competence and potential danger, she considered her options. Simply shooting him the moment he entered the throne room was out of the question – if he was any kind of Jedi at all, he would sense her hostile intentions and have his lightsaber out in an instant; she would lose any semblance of control of the situation if that happened. But if she left it too long, he might escape with his friends from Jabba's palace, leaving her to return to her Master and admit to her humiliating failure. She had never failed before and had no intention of experiencing the sensation now.

There simply did not appear to be a better option than her original plan. She was certain Jabba had something planned for the Jedi if he ever dared show his face, but short of dropping him into the rancor pit – something she was certain he would be ready for – she now doubted the gangster's minions would be up to the task. She would simply have to bide her time, look for an opportunity and when it presented itself, which she was certain it would, she would act to remove the troublesome pest. She would do her duty.

A commotion from the entrance to the chamber drew her attention and her stomach clenched with anticipation of the arrival of her quarry. As he walked into the room, her gaze latched on to him and never wavered. He was not a large man, standing a little less than average height, with a slender, almost slight build. He was dressed completely in black – from the knee-high boots, tunic and pants of an unremarkable cut to the rough cloak about his shoulders. He had the hood drawn up over his head, completely obscuring his features, and as he walked into the room, he murmured something to the Hutt's major domo, extending also a tendril of the Force toward the weak-minded Twi'lek, nudging the unfortunate in the direction of his choosing.

In spite of his unremarkable appearance, she was again struck with the force of his presence, his bearing and the light of his Force aura – which was even more bright and commanding than it had been from a distance. This was a very dangerous man – more dangerous than she had ever believed possible.

In that instant, whether by chance or some other means, his gaze suddenly shifted and she found herself staring into his eyes as his attention was immediately drawn to her presence. Where before she had thought his physical appearance unexceptional, she once again found herself forced to reconsider as she looked into his eyes. They were blue and piercing and although she knew intellectually he could not know who she was, she felt suddenly uncomfortable – exposed and laid bare to his judgment. She stood staring at him, unwilling and unable to break the connection, aware that he continued to return her gaze, neither able to wrench their eyes away from the other. Something indescribable passed between them – something she was unable, or unwilling, to identify. But on some level she knew they had communed with one another; their souls had made a connection in that instant and whatever was to happen, she had been forever altered as his presence had made an imprint upon hers.

Finally he broke the connection and turned his attention on the gangster, freeing her from captivity. Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes and struggled to regain her equilibrium which had been so completely torn from her. She had always been cool and calm in the performance of her duties in the past, never affected by her targets – even those with whom she had come in contact before actually carrying out her mission. But this man had managed, simply with his presence and a mere look, to throw her balance off and leave her adrift.

Summoning all her training, she opened her eyes and sought her quarry once again, willing herself to consider him once again with the eyes of a hunter. Looking at him as he conversed with the Hutt, she thought back to the day she had been given the assignment. Her Master had been adamant of the danger of his continued existence and she had been able to feel the waves of his implacable hatred for this man, greater than anything she had ever witnessed from her Master before. She tried to remember her Master's hatred as it had washed over her, tried to make it her own – to give her a line to latch onto, to harden her for what she knew she had to do.

But it was no use. Hatred was the province of her Master and no matter how much she had tried to emulate him, to feel what he felt, judge as he judged, she had never been able to replicate it in herself. She had never been able to hate her targets, least of all this man. She was left with nothing more than her obedience to her Master's will and her duty to him. This man must die because her Master had decreed it – her own feelings in the matter, if any such existed, were irrelevant.

She would do her duty and carry out her mission, knowing all the while that something undefined would be lost when his life ended. In other circumstances, in another time, had the battle lines not been drawn, the outcome of their meeting could have been different – just how different she would never know. A sense of sorrow lanced through her, though for what she could not say. But she forced it down and returned to her study of the Jedi.

Her demeanor turned predatory once again, her former distress forgotten and filed away in the back of her mind. She watched intently as he spoke with Jabba, her mind worked through plans and machinations, calculating how best to end his life.

The reality was what it was – no amount of wishing or daydreaming would change the situation or who they were.

He was Luke Skywalker, self-styled Jedi Knight and traitor to the Empire.

She was Mara Jade, Emperor's Hand and instrument of her Master's will.

Here, she would end his life.


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

**Three Days Previous**

Luke Skywalker wiped the sweat away from his brow and regarded his handiwork with a critical eye, searching for any defect in craftsmanship, anything he could have missed in its construction. To his admittedly inexperienced perception, everything looked properly placed and functional, but as his experience with lightsabers consisted of his father's blade Ben had given him when they had left Tatooine for the first time, he could not be certain.

His father's lightsaber he had lost on Bespin.

As always, the thought of his ill-fated duel with Darth Vader – his father – and the events which had taken place on the gantry in Cloud City caused him to flex his hand – his artificial hand. Gripping it tightly into a fist, Luke felt pain and despair wash over his senses once again, the passage of almost six months since the event having done nothing to ease the shock and pain of betrayal he had felt upon learning the truth.

Forcing himself to calm, Luke once again turned his attention back to the lightsaber lying on the workbench. He had shied away from the same design as his father's –perhaps unconsciously, perhaps not – and had instead designed a functional weapon, one which was more similar to Ben's weapon than his previous blade.

Of course, having found Ben's instructions and materials in his hut on Tatooine had likely influenced the design he had ultimately chosen for his lightsaber – without this information, he doubted he would have been able to construct a working weapon. He had taken his father's lightsaber apart a number of times in the years he had had it, but even that had not been enough preparation for the actual task.

Sighing, Luke sat back in his chair and considered the last several months. Lando and Chewie had managed to find the Hutt's location very quickly, notorious as the gangster was. Luke had followed with Leia soon after, setting up their base of operations in the old Jedi's former home while they waited for Lando to infiltrate Jabba's palace. The former baron had ingratiated himself into the Hutt's operations and had managed to acquire a position as one of the gangster's guards – a position which would likely prove useful in the days to come. And he had managed to verify the fact that the vile gangster had yet to release Han from the carbonite – instead he was being used as a wall decoration. The memory of Leia crying in his arms at the news still filled him with anger.

However, knowing that rashly reacting to this news would only put them all in great danger, Luke had forced himself to be patient and allow time for their plans to come to fruition. He had busied himself, studying everything he could of the Jedi from the materials he found in Ben's hut, poring over books, training manuals and old manuscripts. It had also been necessary to train diligently in the use of his artificial hand; in time, he gotten so used to it, he was hardly aware of any difference between it and the original.

Through it all, he knew had had changed – he was definitely not the boy he had been. Experience and knowledge had forever changed him and sorrow had forged him into what he was now. He knew deep down that he was more confident, competent and wiser than he had ever been before.

What he did not know, was whether it was enough.

He had also attended to the construction of his lightsaber, using the Force to guide him in its planning, construction and execution. The task had taken him longer than he had expected, much of the time taken by the necessity of having to forge his own focusing crystal. Among the Jedi teachings he had discovered in Ben's hut, he had found a trove of material related to lightsaber construction. Reading the information voraciously, he had learned that the Jedi of the past had generally built their lightsabers using ilum crystals from the Belgaroth system. Unfortunately, not having had the opportunity to obtain one of these crystals for himself, Luke had determined to create his own. Luke was not certain if the Jedi Master had made his own crystal, or simply had the information in case he ended up having to, but the entire process had been detailed in his notes and it had been a simple, if time consuming, matter for Luke to follow the notes and create his own crystal. Given the length of time the Jedi had spent exiled on this rock with nothing to do, Luke could well imagine the old master having to create one for himself if anything happened to his original crystal.

Now was the ultimate test; he would know if all his hard work had paid off with a working lightsaber. Yet Luke hesitated, thinking back over his numerous failures of the past several weeks. He had come to this point before, convinced of his success, only have the blade fizzle out after only a few seconds, or even worse yet – not ignite at all. The longing for a completed lightsaber was almost a physical pain – he felt naked without its reassuring presence. He had carried a lightsaber since the time Ben had him given his father's weapon and being without one had been taxing.

Knowing he was running out of time and that he was avoiding the possibility of his new weapon not working, Luke resolutely picked up the lightsaber and thumbed the switch. Instantly, an emerald blade shot out of the emitter as the lightsaber hummed into life.

Warily, Luke regarded the blade, half expecting the lightsaber to short out yet again. When nothing happened, he began to swing it around experimentally, testing the unfamiliar feeling of the new handle, familiarizing himself with the sensation of having his own weapon – one of his own creation. As his confidence grew, he began swinging the saber in more complicated sequences, a feeling of euphoria beginning to swell. Soon, he was moving through the forms with abandonment, feeling the Force flow through him.

At length he stopped and gazed at the brilliant green of his saber, finally understanding the references he had uncovered to a bond between saber and wielder which littered the writings he had studied. He had never felt this way about his father's lightsaber before.

The door to the chamber opened in that instant and in walked Leia. She stopped and stared, transfixed at the sight of his glowing blade. "So, it's finished."

Luke grinned at her before deactivating the blade. "So it would appear. And it didn't even short out this time."

"Well, you certainly do have a good sense of timing," Leia replied, her face mirroring his grin, "although I would have been much more comfortable if you hadn't cut it so close."

Luke merely flipped a mocking salute before turning back to his workbench, intending to tidy up some of the items he had left there upon finishing his work. This Leia – the warm, bantering friend – had been missing far too often of late. Her moods had been dark, bordering on morose. He was happy to see more of the old Leia he knew and loved.

"So, you doubted me, did you?"

He could hear Leia move closer behind him as her warm voice washed over him. "No, I guess I didn't. No matter what, we have always managed in the past."

"That we have," he agreed. He continued with his task, reveling in the closeness he felt with his companion, until chore completed, he turned and regarded her. She was staring, gazing at something only she could see, once again the new Leia he had come to know in the last several months. She was thinking again.

Suddenly seeming aware of the silence which stretched between them, Leia glanced up again at Luke's face before dropping her gaze to the floor. "Are we ready for this?"

Months ago – before Han's capture – she would never have voiced such a question. The Leia of old had been confident and assured. But since Bespin she had been hesitant and unsure, completely unlike herself. Han's fate at Vader and Jabba's hands had affected her more than she was willing to admit.

Luke reached forward and grasped her hand, squeezing it gently, imparting whatever comfort and reassurance he could. "We are ready," he affirmed, "or as ready as we will ever be. As long as we stick to the plan and trust in the Force, we will succeed."

Leia grimaced slightly at his words, but said nothing.

"Just remember," Luke continued, "we need you in place, ready to assist if my plan for dealing with Jabba doesn't work."

Leia shook her head. "I am still not certain this plan is such a good idea. You said yourself you only had a few months training with your Jedi Master… Are you sure you can pull this off?"

"I'm not certain of anything, Leia," Luke admitted. "But I know enough to put my trust in the Force. I've managed to influence the minds of some of the thugs we've run across in the last couple of months – I see no reason why it shouldn't work with Jabba as well. Hopefully, I can influence him to let us all go without the need for any of us to be put in danger."

Leia pulled her hand away from Luke's grasp and turned away. "I'm not certain I can do this, Luke."

"What?"

"Stay so close to him without doing anything. I know he's suffering, Luke – I can feel it."

"Leia…"

Leia whirled around to face him, a desperate pleading look in her eyes. "I love him, Luke," she began, strain evident in her voice. "I know this may hurt you and come as a shock, but you need to know the truth."

Strange they had spent all these months together and although he had known, they had never actually discussed her feelings for Han. At one time, such an admission would have brought a wave of unbearable pain, a time when he and his best friend had been involved in a friendly rivalry – never spoken of – for the affections of the dark-haired princess. But it had never come between their friendship. And even though he had been closer to Han than anyone else since he had met the smuggler in that dingy cantina in Mos Eisley, Luke would have done just about anything at one time to secure Leia's affections. Those times were long past – and the young, naïve and idealistic boy was gone with them.

"Leia, I know," he soothed.

"You do?" At his affirmative nod she continued, "And you are fine with it?"

A grin appeared on his face as he continued. "I don't actually have much choice, do I?" he teased lightly. Leia flushed and her face fell.

"Seriously, Leia," he continued, "I have known for quite some time – I would have to be blind _not_ to see.

"I'm sorry, Luke," she whispered, her voice miserable. "I thought once that our relationship could develop into romance when we first met, but it never happened. I don't know how or why, but at some point I developed feelings for Han and I'm sorry, but I simply don't feel a romantic love for you. I never meant to hurt you."

Luke reached out and gently tilted her chin up to meet his gaze. "You haven't hurt me, Leia. I realized some time ago that I love you – with all my heart. But I also realized that the love I felt for you – and I suspected the love you felt for me – was not a romantic love. You aren't breaking my heart; you are affirming my own feelings."

Tears glistened in the corners of her eyes as she listened to his confession and she caught him in a fierce embrace, her tears beginning to flow freely. "Thank you, Luke. I feel exactly the same way. I was afraid I had hurt you."

Luke did not reply – holding her as the tears slipped from her eyes to dampen his shirt was enough. He did not know why their relationship had not developed the way he had imagined the first time he had seen her, but he was happy that if she was not his to love, she had managed to secure the affections of the man in the galaxy he most looked up to.

"Don't worry about me, Leia," he assured her. "Besides, with all that Ben and Master Yoda have seen fit to dump on me – restoring the Jedi, confronting Vader and the Emperor – I doubt in the long run I will have time for someone in my life. She would always have to be second best."

Shocked, Leia pulled away and gave him an incredulous look. "Don't say that, Luke. You have so much love to give; I'm certain there is someone out there for you. Please don't talk like that."

Luke merely smiled and shrugged, not wishing to argue with her about something had had not really given much thought to. "I don't know. I think it's a little early to be thinking about this anyway… we still have to worry about defeating the Empire before thinking about a family. Not much of a family life when you're always on the run."

Leia nodded soberly, her gaze once again distant.

"So now you understand why I can't sit and do nothing while Han suffers," she continued at length.

"Leia," he admonished, "You will not do Han any good by getting yourself captured as well. Please, stick to the plan."

Leia's eyes lowered to the floor. "I will try, Luke."

Luke ached for Leia's misery. "I know how hard this is for you, Leia; it's just as hard for me, but Han would be the first to tell you not to risk yourself unduly. There will be risks enough for us all when we are in there – don't take it upon yourself to free Han and get yourself caught by Jabba. We need you undercover, in case this doesn't work out the way we've planned."

Apparently unable to trust her voice, Leia nodded, then leaned in and gave Luke a quick kiss on the cheek before hastily retreating from the room. Luke watched her – uneasy at the direction the conversation had taken. He would not put it past her to throw the entire plan out the window and attempt Han's rescue by herself, given half a chance. Still, he knew how she felt – he had had to restrain himself from doing the exact same thing on a number of occasions.

Shaking his head, he opened his pack and locating several remotes, grabbed them and left the hut to put his lightsaber to a much more strenuous test in the early evening light of the Tatooine suns.

* * *

Three days later, Luke entered Jabba's palace, eyes alert and wary for any sign of trouble. But the entrance was dark and empty, so secure was the gang lord in his reputation and power; his fortress was largely unguarded with the exception of the droid at the gate.

Of course, now the task was more difficult – though certainly not impossible – with Leia's capture, which he had known about as soon as it had happened, engaged as he was with tracking her Force presence as she progressed into Jabba's lair. Surprisingly, he had discovered reaching out to her presence was almost second nature, likely a consequence of their close friendship. Perhaps it would be worth further investigation to see if she had some Force sensitivity.

Suddenly, he felt the fleeting brush of another Force sense against his own, shocking him into immobility as he cast his senses around, attempting to trace the touch back to its source. Life on the planet was sparse and the only real concentration of life anywhere in the area was focused around the fortress. He allowed his sense to drift toward the throne room, assuring himself once again of Leia's presence and the fact that she was as of yet unharmed.

But where he would have expected to find only Leia's presence shining through the lesser lights gathered in the room, he instead was struck by the presence of another beacon through the Force – and this one positively glowed with Force potential. A quick, but subtle probe of the other person revealed nothing. Whoever it was, they had learned to shield their thoughts effectively, as his probe had met nothing but walls as strong as durasteel.

Calming himself, Luke once again opened himself to the Force, questing out toward the other presence, trying to obtain a general impression of the other's plans, motives. As before, the shields around the mind of the other person were impenetrable – he may as well have tried boring through to the center of Tatooine with nothing more than his fingers, for all the progress he was making. Instead, he shifted his focus, consulting the Force, attempting to gain an understanding of what this person may be here for, what effect they might have on his future. His sight blackened momentarily as he was swept away into the Force.

_A beautiful face_ _framed with flame-red hair materialized before his eyes. She spoke to him, her laughing green eyes shining as she leaned in for a kiss._

Luke staggered slightly as the vision ended, his eyes widening in shock. _Laughing green eyes…_ he had never seen the face of the woman in his vision – it must be a vision of the future.

Was this a vision of the strange presence he felt in the throne room, or was this someone else he had yet to meet? As he had been trying to obtain a sense of the other's purpose, it would seem logical the vision had been directed at them. And was it a premonition of something to come, or only a possibility?

_Always in motion, the future is,_ he heard the voice of Master Yoda echo in his head.

The thought sobered him – whatever the Force had been trying to tell him, the vision could not be set in stone. There would undoubtedly be many steps before he could arrive at the conclusion hinted at, many tangents in which the destiny foretold could veer off course – propel him to a completely different end.

And he suddenly realized that he wanted it – wanted the stability of a family, a home and the love of a woman – the woman of his vision. It was difficult, almost impossible to explain, but even though he had never met the woman whose face he had fleetingly glimpsed, he felt – sensed – that whoever the woman had been, he was connected to her in some unfathomable way. He thought back to his words to Leia… _I doubt in the long run I will have the time for someone in my life_. He had not been inspired by a premonition or prompting from the Force – merely the fearful insecurities of a young man bowed under by the weight of his responsibility and destiny. With the woman of his youthful infatuation pledged to another and forever beyond his reach and the burden of his responsibility as a Jedi weighing down on him, Luke had feared, perhaps unconsciously, the life of a husband and father would forever be denied.

_What am I doing? _Luke thought to himself angrily, ruthlessly reining in his careening daydreams. _A brief vision of a woman I have never met and already I'm thinking marriage?_

He was disgusted with himself for allowing his focus to slip in such a manner. Master Yoda was right – too many times his head was in the clouds, rather than focusing on the present. Luke closed his eyes and forced himself to consider the situation rationally; whatever the vision had been, he would be a fool to take it literally – it could mean anything, maybe even a warning against the woman. He would simply need to keep his attention focused on the present and deal with the vision when the situation arose.

Reaching out with his mind once again, Luke approached the presence in the throne room, trying to gauge its power and intentions. Whoever it was, it had a strength in the Force Luke had seldom felt in another. The Force sense was generally light, but within contained a roiling mass of grays and darker flecks – as though it was in conflict, although whether the conflict was internal or from outside sources he could not tell. Still, regardless of his inability to penetrate the barriers the other had in place, he could not detect any hint of malice or danger from the presence. It was certainly nothing like the presence of Darth Vader had been, nor did it seem to be associated with what he had come to understand was the dark side. Whatever they were here for, he could sense no danger.

Squaring himself, Luke continued his journey through the crime lord's fortress, willing his thoughts to remain on the goal. The first priority was to free his friends from Jabba's clutches.

As he made his way through the corridors of the fortress, two of Jabba's guards – burly disgusting Gamorreans – stepped out from the sides of the corridor and crossed their pikes in front of him. Annoyed at the delay, Luke raised his hand and applied a slight amount of pressure to the guards' throats, causing them to drop their pikes and stagger back toward the walls. Releasing them, Luke continued on his way, stalking past them without a backward glance. The Gamorreans did not follow.

Outside the throne room, Luke was once more met, this time by a tall Twi'lek with reddish eyes and a sickly pale skin tone, who again attempted to impede his passage.

"The great Jabba is asleep," the Twi'lek rasped in Huttese, fearfully glancing back at the Hutt, who was napping on his throne. The crime lord obviously did not take kindly to interruptions to his afternoon nap. "He has instructed me to tell you there will be no bargains."

Once again, Luke reached out, but this time he brushed up against the Twi'lek's mind and planted the suggestion of obedience. "You will take me to Jabba now."

The Twi'lek stopped and blinked, momentarily appearing confused. "I will take you to Jabba now."

Luke continued to murmur instructions to the dominated Twi'lek, playing to the creature's ego, telling him how well he was doing his job. But in his mind he noticed two things immediately. One was the princess. Leia was lounging in front of the loathsome beast, dressed in nothing more than a scanty dancing girl costume, chained at the neck, the other end firmly held by one of Jabba's massive fists. Although she was clearly anguished at her situation, Luke caught her eye briefly, willing her to be still and do nothing. She seemed to sense his thoughts and visibly calmed herself, sitting back to watch with glittering brown eyes.

The second thing he noticed was the presence he had felt earlier – it was strong and near, somewhere in this room. Walking up over a metal grating set in the floor in front of the massive slug's throne, Luke watched, assuring himself that the major domo was doing as he was being prodded, and turned his gaze to the right of the throne.

His gaze was immediately snared by the greenest pair of eyes he had ever seen. It was the woman of his vision – she was even more beautiful than she had appeared in his mind. Her eyes and perfectly smooth, creamy complexion was framed by a mane of pure fire – red and gold locks flowing freely down to the middle of her back, a silver circlet resting on her forehead, nestled among the enchanting curls. As he stared at her, he was taken back to the vision – he could almost see the light in her eyes as she regarded him, the curve of her lips and the feel of them as they pressed against his own, could hear the rich timbre of the sensual contralto he knew her voice would be. And as they gazed at one another, Luke could feel something pass between them, a connection the like of which he had never felt before – not even with Han or Leia. Whatever they were or may eventually be to each other, Luke in that instant knew with clarity that somehow their fates were bound to one another.

Whether this would end up a blessing or a curse, he could not say.

With an almost superhuman effort, Luke dragged his gaze away from the red-haired woman and turned his attention – shattered though his concentration was – back to the Hutt, who was busy chastising the unfortunate Twi'lek Luke had dominated for letting the Jedi into the room.

"I must be allowed to speak," Luke said, infusing his words with a suggestion from the Force.

When the Twi'lek repeated his words dutifully, Jabba seized him with one meaty paw. "You weak-minded fool, he's using an old Jedi mind trick," he growled in disgust, before hurling the major domo to the floor where he landed in an undignified heap.

Suddenly afraid his Force enhanced commands would not be enough, Luke reached out to the mind of the Hutt, noting the malignant alien intelligence, trying to force Jabba to his will. "You will bring Captain Solo and the Wookiee to me," he commanded, using every ounce of Force strength he could muster.

To his horror, the Hutt simply chuckled in response. "Your mind tricks will not work on me, boy. I am not affected by your human thought pattern."

"Nevertheless, I am taking Captain Solo and his friends," Luke declared, altering his plans. He knew that since he could not influence the Hutt's thinking, it was time to move to something else. The Hutt was egotistical and overconfident; Luke knew he could not resist arranging a truly dramatic death for his captives. Now was the time to goad him into it and thereby separate him from the bulk of his thugs.

"You can either profit by this, or be destroyed," Luke continued. "It's your choice, but I warn you not to underestimate my powers."

Once again Jabba chuckled and leered at the Jedi.

"Master Luke, you're standing…" Threepio began, but was silenced by one of Jabba's guards.

"There will be no bargain, young Jedi," Jabba continued. "But I will enjoy watching you die."

Moving with inhuman speed, Luke stretched out his hand and pulled a blaster from the holster of one of the guards. But as he aimed at Jabba, the crime lord slammed his fist down on the side of the throne and Luke felt the ground tip beneath him, his danger sense suddenly screaming at him – too late as it turned out. A nearby guard tumbled down into the hole beneath the grate, pulling a surprised Luke along with him.

As Luke fell, he caught a fleeting glimpse of the woman from his vision. Her face was stony and her eyes were like emeralds – hard and cold.


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Mara Jade stalked purposefully through the halls of Jabba's palace, seething at the stupidity of a certain Jedi, not to mention the ineptitude of Jabba and his minions in general. Not only had the Jedi allowed himself to be caught unawares and dropped into the rancor pit (how gullible could you be?) but he had also managed to kill the beast and save himself. Even now, nearly thirty minutes after the event had occurred, she was unable to decide whether he had simply been lucky, or incredibly resourceful and skilled. Had he expertly maneuvered the Hutt into this grand, showy execution Jabba favored so much? Mara felt no small measure of trepidation at the thought.

_Face it,_ she told herself angrily. _You underestimated him and didn't plan for the mission properly. You trusted the Hutt to do your job for you and now you may end up paying for it._

The thought of failure and facing the Emperor made her stomach clench. She was under no illusions as to how an encounter with her Master would go after a failed mision – especially one of this importance. It was an experience she had never had and hoped could be postponed indefinitely. He would not be pleased…

It was time for her to act, to take control and devote the seriousness and attention to the mission it deserved; she only hoped it would not be too late. She had a renewed purpose – she knew that however it had happened, Skywalker had contrived to take Jabba out of his palace and separate him from the bulk of his thugs. She knew that a fully trained Jedi would be more than a match for the gangster and his forces aboard the sail barge and that she would have to take an active hand in destroying him. The fact that there was no one left to train him was now irrelevant; somehow Skywalker had managed to train himself and was now a dangerous adversary, one to be taken seriously and dispatched of with every ounce of skill she possessed.

Schooling her features carefully, Mara walked into the Dancer's Pit – its name ironic due to its location and setting – looking for the current entertainment manager. The room was a bustle of dancers all scurrying around, many preparing to depart with the sail barge – at least, those who had been chosen to accompany the great slug. The rest were seated here and there, some looking on resentfully at those chosen to go, the majority looking more relieved than anything.

Spying the woman, Mara assumed her most convincing air of deference. "Mistress Carniss, please, I would like to be included in the troupe which accompanies the great Jabba on the sail barge."

The director glanced at Mara and her face twisted into a disdainful sneer. "You?" she demanded. "You are new and definitely not one of Jabba's favorites. He would be most displeased if I was to allow one such as you on the sail barge."

Mara's eyes narrowed as fury filled her – how dare this oafish woman deny her? She reached out with her senses and applied the Force to the woman. "I will accompany you on the sail barge – Jabba was most pleased with my performance."

The woman's eyes glassed over, as she repeated Mara's words. Mara realized she had applied a little more persuasion than necessary in her fit of pique, her hold on the woman so complete she would act as little more than a mindless automaton. "You will go and make the arrangements," she continued easing up on the pressure, willing the woman's mind to return to a normal state.

"I will go and make the arrangements," the woman repeated, turning and walking from the room, her gait stiff.

Mara glanced surreptitiously around, hoping no one else had noticed the exchange; she need not have worried – most of the dancers had through experience not to be too interested in anything outside their own little sphere. Hopefully, in the excitement, no one would notice if the woman acted strangely; it would be enough as long as she got Mara on that sail barge. Once on the barge, she could ensure Skywalker was dealt with and her mission fulfilled.

Her smile became feral – Skywalker would never know what hit him.

* * *

"I think my eyes are getting better," Han Solo remarked as the skiff glided gracefully over the sands of Tatooine. "Instead of a big dark blur, I see a big light blur."

Luke smiled at Han's irreverent tone. "There isn't really anything to see. I used to live here, you know."

"You're gonna die here, you know," Han shot back. "Convenient, don't you think?"

"Don't be too certain of that," Luke responded mildly. "Just stick close to Chewie and Lando, we've taken care of everything."

"Great," Han muttered with a grimace, his gaze once again settling on the surrounding landscape, his eyes squinting, searching for detail.

Luke smiled and turned his eyes once more toward the Dune Sea. Han was a fierce and loyal friend, but he had no belief in or understanding of the Force, preferring to trust only in what he could see and touch. Luke knew that he had learned perspective and patience – taken many steps into that larger world Ben had once promised him. He trusted in the Force and knew it would carry him through this situation. And while Luke knew they were not out of the woods yet, he also knew they had made an important move on the dejarik board – they had inched closer to their final escape from the clutches of the vile gangster. It had now become a process which Luke knew Jabba was not likely to survive.

Luke considered what he had learned in the throne room. There was absolutely no dealing with the nefarious Hutt – although Luke intended to give the gangster one more opportunity to free them without a confrontation, he knew Jabba was too set in his evil ways. Luke felt a grim satisfaction at the prospect of ridding the galaxy of the Hutt – he was a leech and the galaxy could only be a better place with the gangster put out of business permanently.

He had also learned to pay better attention to his surroundings. Being dropped into the rancor pit had certainly not been part of his plan and although it had turned out well in the end, he knew he could ill afford to be caught unaware. His danger sense should have warned him, but he knew he was still green in the use of the Force and would take some time to develop. Of course, he had been slightly distracted…

As always, his attention was diverted again to the presence on the massive sail barge, one he had been constantly aware of since sensing her outside the throne room. He turned his head, his eyes unerringly drawn to the spot near the top of the barge, his eyes catching a glint of red hair and a diaphanous blue costume. She had never really been far from his thoughts since he had first sensed her and he found himself once again pondering the mystery of her appearance. Who was she? What was she doing here? Was her presence a coincidence or was there something else behind it?

He had no answers. He had even briefly tried immersing himself in the Force again once they had been hustled on to the skiff, but other than that one fleeting, tantalizing vision, the Force had remained stubbornly silent. One thing he was certain of – somehow he knew their fates were bound to one another. He would be seeing more of this mystery woman.

* * *

Mara watched the skiff carrying Skywalker, focusing on the Jedi, willing him to give up his secrets and divulge his plans. The man remained an enigma to her, his mental shields were impressive – worthy of her master's instruction. However he had managed to learn so much about the Force, she could not help but admire his power and competence. A pity his remaining life was to be measured in mere minutes.

She was in position, situated near the top level in the bow of the sail barge, ready to intervene if Jabba's plans did not come to fruition. Escape from the dancing troupe had been accomplished with an almost laughable ease – as the dance manager had not even wanted her here in the first place, she had easily convinced the woman to forget about her, freeing her to move about the barge as she wished.

But even though she knew she had done what she could to prepare for the confrontation, something nagged at her consciousness – something she could not figure out. It was as if she were missing something, overlooking a fact so obvious that it should have screamed out to her in its blatancy. Whatever it was, however, she could not put her finger on it.

_He must be cooking in those black clothes,_ she thought absentmindedly. Even with the skimpy costume and the air rushing past the barge, she could still feel the heat.

Hearing a commotion behind her, Mara watched as Skywalker's golden protocol droid spoke with a small blue astromech. Her eyes narrowed as the memory of the two droids arriving in Jabba's throne room stole over her. They had played a message to the Hutt who had laughed it off, then had been escorted away from the chamber to be fitted with restraining bolts. The protocol droid was easy – she had seen him many times since then and had even spoken with him briefly. The astromech was the question. She had not seen his astromech since the day they had arrived, but she could swear that the astromech before her now was the very one which had arrived with the protocol droid.

She watched as they finished whatever they were saying and moved off in separate directions, then turned her attention back toward the skiff and the black clad figure. They were all here; Organa chained to Jabba's throne, Skywalker, Solo and the Wookiee on the skiff and the droids on the sail barge. The reason for the protocol droid's presence was evident, but why was the astromech here? She gazed down at the Jedi, watching as he looked up toward where she stood – he had obviously felt the same connection to her as she had felt to him and could pinpoint her through the Force. She herself was constantly aware of him, his presence a soothing balm on her soul – a fact which troubled her. She knew she should feel something – anything – negative toward him. If she could not hate him, she should at least be angry with him for defying her master's will and bringing chaos to the galaxy. But even that eluded her. He held a great conviction in his cause, that much was apparent, and try as she might, she could not find fault with someone who remained true to his conscience.

Mara shied away from that train of thought. The Emperor, she knew, cared nothing for her opinions and thoughts, merely demanding her complete loyalty. However, there was a limit to how much he would tolerate and she knew if he was ever aware of the meandering thoughts running through her mind, she would be punished with a bout of his lightning at the very least. At worst, he may decide she was no longer of any use to him. She turned her attention back to the mission and Skywalker. There was still something missing. Skywalker had waltzed into Jabba's palace, confident and assured he would be able to walk out again… What sane man would walk into a heavily guarded fortress and take on its inhabitants weaponless and completely outnumbered? Weaponless…

Suddenly she knew – Skywalker was not wearing his lightsaber!

Mara felt a moment of panic as she considered this revelation. The Jedi was not stupid; he would not give himself up to the dubious mercy of the Hutt without the benefit of his weapon. But if he did not have it – and she was certain he did not, as he had been thoroughly searched when taken out of the rancor pit – then who did?

Organa's costume was such that it would be impossible for her to conceal such a weapon and Solo had been a wall decoration not long ago. The Wookiee? She dismissed the though as soon as it popped into her mind. It could have been the Wookiee, but the risk of him being searched when he was escorted to his cell was simply too great. That left…

Mara turned sharply, her eyes peering intently through the gloom of the barge's interior, searching for the two droids she had seen earlier, but they were both out of sight. One of them must have the lightsaber. It would not be the protocol droid – not only did it not have the necessary means to get the weapon to Skywalker when he needed it, but it was also flighty and could not be relied with something of this importance.

That left the astromech – the one of the party which no one would ever think to search. It likely had chambers in its dome which could house a weapon and likely even a way to make certain the Jedi received it when it was needed.

Knowing there was no time to lose, Mara rushed back through the sail barge, searching for the astromech. All she would have to do would be to remove him from the barge and her mission would be complete – without his lightsaber, Skywalker would not be able to block blaster bolts and even if he did try to escape, they would be able to cut him down from the barge.

She searched for several moments, but it was ultimately in vain. The Sarlacc pit was only moments away and she did not have the time it would take to locate the droid. But as the droid was on the sail barge and the Jedi out on the skiff, Mara knew the only way for the weapon to reach him was for the droid to launch it through the air. The only question was when.

Abruptly she came to a decision and ran toward the stairs, intent on reaching the top deck. If she was to prevent his lightsaber from reaching him, she would need to be in position to intercept it with the Force – she need simply ensure his weapon never reached him.

* * *

The skiff began to slow as they reached their destination. A quick glance down told Luke all he needed to know – the pit was shallow and not steep, but at the bottom, nestled in amongst the dunes, was a great open maw, three full rows of long, sharp teeth set in a pink, mucus filled opening. The creature must be immense underneath the sand.

Luke glanced quickly around, catching Lando's eye as he stood to the side next to Chewie, the man's eyes flickered toward Luke before once again resuming his straightforward gaze. Across the pit, the great sail barge slowed and stopped, its ponderous bulk floating above the sands on the other side of the pit from the skiff, affording its occupants a clear, unobstructed view of the coming execution. Luke almost pitied them – scum to the last, without mercy and any shred of common decency, they gloried in the misfortune and pain of others.

_This will be a good day,_ Luke thought to himself, once again feeling the satisfaction of the removal of one of the most reprehensible beings from the galaxy. The people of Tatooine, and indeed the entire quadrant, would sleep more securely tonight, even though they would not yet know a major threat to their peace and security had been removed.

As the skiff came to a halt, one of the Weequay guards grabbed Luke's shoulder and held him, while the other quickly cut his bonds. Feeling the circulation rush back into his hand, Luke rubbed his real hand with the prosthetic, oddly grateful in that instant that his right hand could not have its circulation interrupted.

_Not the smartest move,_ Luke thought to himself sardonically as they roughly pushed him out onto the plank, which had been extended for the occasion. Obviously, this was not the first time Jabba had fed the Sarlacc.

"Victims of the almighty Sarlacc," Threepio's voice rang out over the dunes, "The great Jabba hopes that you will die honorably. But if any of you should wish to beg for mercy, the great Jabba will now hear your pleas."

Howls of laughter erupted with Jabba's deep evil chuckling ringing out over the din.

"Threepio," Han shouted, incensed. "You tell that slimy piece of worm-ridden filth, he'll get no such pleasure from us." Han looked around at his companions. "Right?"

Luke grinned back at the smuggler – it was good to have his friend back.

"Jabba, this is your last chance," he warned, turning his attention back to the gangster, "free us, or die."

As expected, the Hutt's booming chuckle once again echoed across the dunes. "I'm sure it is young Jedi. Put him in!"

A sharp jab at his back caused Luke to involuntarily step forward. Glancing behind him, he once again caught Lando's eye, acknowledging the slight nod with one of his own. Luke looked up at the sail barge and catching a glimpse of a silver dome glinting in the sunlight, flipped a salute to the droid.

Knowing the timing would have to be perfect, Luke strode out to the edge of the plank, looking down at the repulsive maw waiting below. He sensed, rather than saw, the guard moving cautiously in behind him, his pike extended towards Luke's unprotected back, ready to push the Jedi into the pit.

Luke waited until the guard was almost in range. Then in one fluid motion, he stepped off the platform, twisted in mid-air and caught the edge with his fingertips. The platform flexed and groaned, the metal old and ill used to the stress, before springing back into place, vaulting the Jedi up into the air.

Time seemed to slow to a crawl for Luke as he soared through the air. Everything was open to his gaze – the sail barge as it floated, glinting in the sun, the skiff with its guards, the guard on the plank, his face painted with an almost comic look of surprise, and the lightsaber, arcing through the air toward his landing spot at the base of the plank.

Unexpectedly, Luke felt a warning of danger screaming though the Force and he locked his attention on the spinning silver cylinder. Luke reached out and yanked his lightsaber toward him, grunting with a momentary pain at the force of the impact of the weapon with his hand, and landed on the platform, behind the stunned Weequay guard. Thumbing the switch, Luke ignited the saber and putting the warning through the Force out of his mind for the moment, began laying waste to the assorted guards on the platform.

* * *

Mara screamed in frustration as the lightsaber was pulled out of her grasp an instant before she had locked on to it. Somehow the Jedi had known, had anticipated her move and had countered it with superb effect.

She watched helplessly as he ignited the blade and began to wreak his vengeance on the hapless guards of the skiff. Her eyes caught another development and she watched as one of the guards on the skiff began to grapple with one of the others, joining Skywalker's side. Mara gaped at this event, her eyes becoming even more steely and hard. Skywalker had planned this more carefully than she had thought, spending several months setting this up, even inserting one of his own into the gangster's palace. Organa likely would have been a second mole if she had not abandoned the plan, something Mara was now convinced she had. The whole situation had suddenly become much more complicated.

Not far from her location on the barge, Boba Fett the bounty hunter launched himself into the air with the aid of his rocket pack to join the melee below, only to have his blaster immediately slashed in half by the Jedi's deadly weapon. She witnessed his attempt to capture the Jedi with his cable, and subsequent wild ride as his rocket was ignited accidentally by a flailing Solo.

_Good riddance,_ she snarled, as he bounced off the side of the sail barge and tumbled down into the belly of the Sarlacc. Fett had spied her early on in her time in Jabba's palace and had been dogged in his pursuit of her, confident in his arrogance of his right to anything he desired. The man had been a pig.

Her gaze crept back to the Jedi and she was immediately captivated. He had dispatched the guards in the first skiff and was now racing toward the second which had moved in to engage the escaping prisoners. Mara watched as he launched himself into the air, flipped and landed on the bow of the second skiff, his lightsaber a blur of emerald as he blocked blaster bolts and attacked Jabba's thugs. She had never seen such pure grace and raw power in action – he was totally in tune with the Force, immersed in the moment and rapidly decimating Jabba's forces.

Below her current position Mara listened to the angry bellowing of the enraged Hutt and remembered the princess still chained to the throne.

_There's more than one way to remove a pest,_ she thought to herself, removing her hold-out blaster from its holster, comforted by its reassuring weight in her hand. With Organa and his precious droids still on the sail barge, she knew he would have to make his way to the barge to confront the Hutt. When he did, she would be ready for him.

* * *

Luke had never felt like this. His lightsaber – _his _lightsaber and not his father's – felt like an extension, a natural augmentation to his hand. As he waded through the guards of the escort skiff, he felt an excitement well up in him, different from the euphoria he had experienced in other battles in other times. This weapon was his, was forged for him and his unique style and needs. This was truly the weapon of a Jedi.

His thoughts flittered about in a jumble as he battled, of his duty to fight for the freedom of the oppressed and helpless, for the lives of himself and his companions. He was doing what he had been born to do and the lightsaber of his own design and creation was his judge and jury, the executor of his will. Master Yoda always said the Jedi did not desire adventure, but Luke knew that _this_ Jedi would never shirk away from danger and even adventure. He was not content to sit back and watch from obscurity – he wanted to right wrongs and punish evil. He wanted justice.

When the last guard on the skiff fell, Luke sized up the situation. Lando had fallen over the side of the skiff and was now lying prone on the slope of the pit, Han and Chewie reaching out to try and help him back into its dubious safety. Of greater concern, however, were the deck guns on the massive barge which had been manned and begun firing on the unprotected skiff. Knowing the thugs still on the barge were the greater threat, he clipped his lightsaber to his belt and leapt over to the side of the great hulk, beginning to climb up the side to the top deck, where he could silence the guns.

* * *

Mara glanced out from her place of concealment, her eyes trained for any sign of the Jedi. The deck was a roiling mass of chaos as Jabba's minions ran to and fro, adding to the confusion of the Jedi's assault. She could no longer hear the roaring of the barge's master – she did not think Skywalker had reached Jabba to silence him, but silenced he was. Mara steadied her breathing and emptied her thoughts, concentrating on the approaching Jedi.

He had reached the top deck of the barge and was even now fighting his way through Jabba's minions toward her location. Again Mara was struck by his shining Force presence. She could feel it flowing through him, guiding his movements, granting him insight and the strength to overcome. He was truly using it in a manner which she had never witnessed before.

Through the crates she was hidden behind, she could see a stain of black approaching. Skywalker had arrived and was now attacking the deck guns threatening the listing skiff and his friends who occupied it. Behind him she witnessed the arrival of the princess along with the two droids – somehow she had managed to free herself from Jabba's clutches, likely meaning the gangster was dead.

Brushing the thought of the likely defunct Jabba from her mind, Mara concentrated on the Jedi, who was steadily nearing her position. Knowing she would only have one chance to end this, Mara monitored his approach, calculating the best time to make her move. His features became more distinct the closer he moved toward her, allowing her a much clearer view of his pleasant face, sandy-blond hair and vivid blue eyes. His lightsaber moved in arcs, deflecting deadly blaster fire, back at their originators for the most part, his fluid motions and lethal skills almost causing her to lose her nerve.

Abruptly, she saw it. No more than twenty meters from her position he turned in the opposite direction to meet a new group of thugs who had come charging up the stairs in his direction.

_Now I have you,_ she thought as she aimed her weapon; a grim satisfaction crept over her features as her finger moved over the trigger.


	4. Chapter 3

A/N: My apologies for the wait on this one. I wanted to address a question which came up in the reviews.

This will _not_ be a complete rewrite of RotJ. The story is focussed on Luke and Mara, so it will cover their experiences during this time period. As the Battle of Endor and the assault on the shield generator, etc have been covered at length, I see no need to revisit them. You will see most of the major events in the movie that Luke was part of, but there will also be several new scenes, things which deal with him and Mara that I imagine would have happened should she have been present in the movie.

Now without further ado, here is the next chapter!

**Chapter 3**

A cacophony spilled out over the Dune Sea, the angry roaring of the combatants, the cries of the wounded, the staccato bursts of blaster fire and the loud humming of a lightsaber all blended into a jumbled mix as the battle for Jabba's sail barge raged on unabated. It flowed around the Jedi, he being its instigator and perpetrator, his lethal weapon leaving dead or injured enemies in his wake. To an uneducated onlooker, the conflict may have seemed a mismatch – one lone man with a mêlée weapon against many of the Hutt's most trusted and skilled minions, most with the ability to deal death from a distance.

Nothing could be further from the truth. The Jedi used his glowing blade to hack through all in his path and blaster bolts from his enemies were blocked with great proficiency, deflected directly back at his hapless enemies more often than not. It was a one-sided affair to be certain, but the scales were tipped in the opposite direction one would have expected, Skywalker's enemies falling as leaves in a gale – Jabba's men were no match before the might of the last of the Jedi.

And they knew it. While many continued to struggle on against the inexorable weight of his sword, yet still others had seen the way the battle was going and decided that no matter how much the Hutt was paying them, his was a dying cause. The ground around the sail barge was littered with those who had already abandoned ship, jumping over the side and running, or stumbling away into the desert and the doubtful mercy of the murderous suns.

For Luke, the mêlée was taking on an almost surreal quality. He had grown up on this planet, for years feeling somehow different than his friends, as if he could somehow see more clearly, understand more deeply. Now he knew he had used the Force unconsciously many times growing up and knew the times his uncle had given him looks of uncertainty or fear, it was because he had known what Luke was doing and had worried for his young charge – worried that Luke would inevitably follow in the footsteps of his infamous sire. Luke knew he was following his father's footsteps, although not in the way his uncle believed. His father must have been a Jedi at some point and Luke was determined to be a Jedi like his father. The trick was to avoid falling to the same fate.

He had grown up in the past year, his journey a difficult one characterized by fear, heartache, pain and loss – loss of his hand; a loss of innocence. But he knew he had come out of it a stronger person. He knew he had acquitted himself well in the duel on Bespin all those months ago, regardless of the outcome. He had simply been unprepared for the raw power and presence in the Force the Sith Lord possessed. But he had learned and adapted, growing ever more confident in the Force and his own abilities. He was now as far beyond the level he had been on Bespin as his level on Bespin had been above the level he had been as a boy.

It was a heady realization, knowing no matter what they threw his way, these thugs were completely beneath him; they were nothing before him but minor obstacles to be brushed aside. Of course, with that realization came responsibility and a need to control himself – such thoughts were dangerous and could easily lead to pride and the dark side.

But he knew he had handled this whole affair in the proper manner, one befitting a Jedi. The dark path would have demanded he enter Jabba's palace swinging his sword, gutting the place and killing all who crossed his path. He had not. Jabba had had every opportunity to avoid this confrontation but had rejected Luke's overtures again and again. Now was the time for justice and a reckoning for the loathsome gangster.

Out of the corner of his eye, Luke noticed Leia coming up from the deck below to join the mêlée, her eyes fixed on Luke as he battled a small group of thugs. Luke strode forward, his lightsaber scything through enemies, a green blur of destruction. With the enemies out of the way, he pushed the gunner off of the bow gun with the Force, the gunner's scream registering distractedly on his mind as he moved to engage a new group of thugs who now charged at him from the opposite direction.

"Leia, get the deck gun and take out the other one before they destroy the skiff!" he yelled, sensing Leia's agreement and movement toward the now unoccupied deck gun.

Luke moved to engage the new group of enemies, dispatching them with a few easy swipes of his lightsaber, when suddenly he felt a warning shouting out through the Force. Desperately, Luke twisted his body, willing himself out of the way of the blaster bolt he knew was heading in his direction. His movement was as fast as thought – but not quite fast enough.

Pain erupted in his hand and his lightsaber flew out of his grasp to land, deactivated, on the deck meters from his feet. Luke whirled around, his eyes searching for the enemy who had managed to sneak behind him, his face falling in astonishment at the scene which met his eyes.

Behind him, less than twenty meters away, stood the woman from Jabba's throne room. In her hand, she held a small, wicked looking blaster pointed in his general direction and on her face was an expression of utter shock. Half way between them lay one of Jabba's guards, his body still smoking from the blaster fire which had taken his life.

For the second time that day, Luke's gaze met and locked with that of the strange woman and he found himself once again drowning in an ocean of emerald green. The diaphanous blue silk of her costume streamed out in the wind, flying along with her fiery hair, giving her the look of an avenging angel. This time, in the heat of the moment, he could feel the current flowing between them, almost a physical connection to her soul. The sensation lasted less than a second, but was no less intense for its brevity.

Luke once again broke his gaze from her, his eyes seeking out his damaged hand. There was a hole in the synth-skin on the back of his hand, its edges blackened and slightly curled from the laser. The nerve endings had gone dead, burned away, so there was no pain. He flexed his hand and saw the mechanism through the hole respond immediately – instantly a wave of relief washed over him as he realized he would still be able to use it.

Chiding himself for his earlier feeling of invincibility and overconfidence, Luke glanced around looking for any other threats, but Jabba's thugs had apparently decided they had pressing business elsewhere – there was no one in sight other than himself and the princess, who was busy firing at the other end of the barge.

Luke stretched his hand and called the lightsaber once again into his grasp, turning his attention back to the dancer. She was still gazing at him, her features etched with astonishment, her blaster arm had lowered until the weapon was pointed at the deck.

He caught a glimpse of movement behind her and without thinking, hastily pushed through the Force, catching the thug that had slipped in behind her off the edge of the barge. The dancer's eyes widened and she shifted to a defensive stance, as the sound of the thug's scream echoed as he fell into the pit below. She whirled around, realizing his attack had not been directed at her and when she turned back, there was something different in her gaze, something Luke could not decipher, but whatever it was, it certainly wasn't threatening.

Luke reached out, offering a hand to the woman. "Come on, we need to get off this thing."

She regarded his hand if it was a rabid gizka, her eyes flittering from the hand back to his face. At length she moved toward him, ignoring his hand completely, joining him in front of the deck gun, her eyes darting warily around the deck.

Shaking his head and trying to focus once again, Luke turned back to Leia. "Point the gun at the deck," he instructed, and looked around for a means off the barge. Immediately spying several ropes hanging down from the remains of the ruined rigging, Luke grasped one and tugged on it experimentally. When it seemed strong enough, he glanced back at the two women who were watching the area for any threats, Leia managing the gun which was now pointed at the deck, the mystery woman surreptitiously watching him as she scanned the area for any threats.

"Well, I guess I could I could take two trips," he muttered under his breath.

The redhead gave him a look of disgust. "Not on your life, Jedi boy," she sniffed with disdain. "I can take care of myself."

Luke nodded, understanding instinctively she could do just that. "All right, you go first," he instructed. "We need to get off this crate immediately."

The woman gazed into his eyes before stowing her weapon in a holster strapped to her inner thigh. She stepped forward and took the rope from the Jedi. After another quick, searching look into Luke's face, she gathered the rope to her and jumped, gracefully swinging across to the waiting skiff.

Luke turned back to Leia. "Come on," he said, beckoning her forward. Then, kicking the trigger to the gun, Luke gathered Leia into his left arm and the two of them swung away from the barge as the shell exploded into the deck causing the ship to shudder violently.

Once back on the skiff, Luke glanced back at Lando, who was now manning the helm. "Let's go, and don't forget the droids."

Lando grinned back at him. "Already on our way."

They swung near the now burning barge, where Lando lowered an electromagnet and latched onto the droids. More explosions rocked the sail barge and its repulsors suddenly lost power, sending the massive vessel plummeting toward the sand below. The skiff sailed away from the death throes of the barge, dodging debris spewing out from vessel, until finally out of range, the members of the little party breathed a sigh of relief. Han let out a whoop and crushed Leia to him in an enormous hug. The action broke a dam and soon the companions were back-slapping, hugging and congratulating each other over their successful escape.

Through it all, Luke responded good-naturedly to the congratulations, all the while keeping his eyes on the one occupant to the skiff who had not joined in the general revelry. She sat in the bow, her arms wrapped around her shoulders, her gaze fixed off in the distance, but Luke knew that whatever she was staring at, she was not seeing – her thoughts were obviously far away. Almost as if drawn by a magnet, the rest of the company followed his eyes and they quieted as Luke moved forward to confront the addition to their party.

* * *

_What have I done?_ Mara asked herself, her thoughts a random jumble of confused emotions and half-understood feelings.

She had had him – of that she was certain. In her mind's eye she could see it all. The Jedi striding forward to confront a group of thugs, his back turned to her, his lightsaber swinging. She could see herself step out from behind the crates, train her weapon on his back, her hand moving on the trigger. All it would have taken was for her to apply the required pressure on the trigger mechanism and her mission would have been complete – she could have returned to her Master in triumph, knowing she had done her duty and protected the Empire from her Master's enemies.

Why had she hesitated? Had it been the grace of his movements, a whisper through the Force? Or had it simply been something within her, something which had rebelled at the thought of ending his life, of forever not knowing what had passed between them, what this connection which had suddenly appeared consisted of.

Whatever it had been, it had prevented her from killing him when she had the chance, stayed her hand, where in the past she had acted without hesitation or mercy. Then the thug had appeared from nowhere, sneaking behind the Jedi, aiming his weapon to kill. She did not know how or why, but suddenly her instincts had kicked in and instead of killing Skywalker, she had shifted her weapon's sights and gunned down the thug, catching him just as his own blaster went off. She could still see the blaster bolt as it hit Skywalker's hand, exposing the intricate circuits, burning away the false flesh.

Afterward it had been all she could do to function – staring at her handiwork, the mess her mission had just become. Even when he had offered her a way of the ship, turning his back on her once more, she had been too unbalanced to act.

Something had happened in the course of this mission, something undefined, yet on some subconscious level understood and accepted. And whatever it was, it somehow held her in its clutches, changing her, molding her into something she had never been before. A part of her was frightened at this intrusion into her life – she who had always prided herself on her control and rational judgment – while a part of her was secretly thrilled at the thought of sharing something with someone else. She had never had that; all her life she had been essentially alone, a pawn in her Master's game of galactic domination – a trusted and deadly pawn, but a pawn nonetheless. She knew her Master would discard her without a moment's hesitation or regret if she proved unworthy.

And after this debacle, she knew her Master would not be happy with her. She would be lucky to escape with her life.

Mara was disgusted with herself. Life as his servant was all she had ever known, all she could hope to look forward to. Whatever she was to him, he deserved all the loyalty she could give him. He had saved her, had taken her in when her parents had died, given her a home, training and a purpose in life. Whatever his methods and motives were, whatever he thought of her, she would continue to give him her all, and if that included the death of Skywalker, then so be it. She would give her life if necessary – kill the Jedi in front of his friends and then die knowing she had fulfilled her purpose, given her all for the stability of the Empire.

She glanced furtively at Skywalker and his friends, all celebrating their successful escape from Jabba's clutches. No, the time was not right yet; there may still be an opportunity to kill the Jedi and still escape to continue her service. She would bide her time and wait for the right moment, striking when least expected, but not shirking from her duty or hesitating as she had done previously. She _would _complete her mission.

"Hello," a tentative voice intruded on her thoughts and she once again found herself gazing into the eyes of the Jedi. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine," she snapped, irritated at the Jedi for what he had done to her.

Skywalker's face betrayed nothing as he regarded her dispassionately. "I'm sorry I didn't get a chance to introduce myself before. I am Luke."

"Arica," she grumbled, turning back to the front of the skiff, hoping he would go away.

"Nice to meet you, Arica," he responded, causing her to look once more at his face. "Thanks for the assist back there on the sail barge."

Mara regarded him blankly for several moments, knowing it should never have happened – she was supposed to be his executioner. The silence however, was becoming uncomfortable and Mara knew she would have to say something to maintain her cover.

"You're welcome," she grudgingly bit out. "Some Jedi you are – to be caught by someone sneaking up behind."

Skywalker did not bat an eyelash at her spiteful statement. "Maybe so," he conceded in that irritating mild voice of his. "Let's just say I'm new at this whole Jedi thing and there are still some things I need to learn."

Mara clamped her lips down, silencing a stinging retort which immediately sprang to mind. It would do no good to antagonize the Jedi – after all, she wanted to keep close to him until she had her chance to fulfill her mission.

"It's okay; it was chaos on that barge, you can't see everything."

"True enough," Skywalker acknowledged and they lapsed into a strained silence, both aware of the strange emotions each had felt around the other – the Jedi seeming too off-balance to bring it up, Mara wishing that whatever it was would just go away.

Finally the Jedi sat down on the deck across from her, irritating her even further. He was not precisely sitting too close or invading her personal space – it was more the fact that he was this comfortable in her presence, felt that the connection between them was sufficient for him to lower his guard that annoyed her. And she knew that it was silly for her to feel this way. She _wanted_ him off his guard and comfortable with her so that when she finally struck, she would not have to deal with a wary target. It was a testament to the affect he was having on her, how badly he had affected her equilibrium.

"So, I must admit to being curious," Skywalker suddenly spoke, startling her from her thoughts. Schooling her features to a neutral expression, she motioned him to continue.

"I couldn't help but notice," he continued hesitantly, "you're Force sensitive and I was wondering what you were doing in Jabba's palace."

Mara gazed at him in consternation, once again aware of something she had overlooked – that the Jedi had honed in on like a laser. She hadn't even considered his knowing of her Force sensitivity and coming up with a plausible explanation. And now, with her silence, she had almost certainly blown her chance to deny any knowledge of the Force.

"I'm sorry," she stammered, thinking furiously of a plausible explanation. "I didn't think you would notice."

Skywalker smiled, his eyes lighting up in what she could only call amusement. "It would have been extremely difficult not to notice; you're kind of like a beacon."

"My mother was a Jedi," Mara blurted out, trying to come up with a believable story, hoping he would not sense the lie through her shields. "She escaped the purges and went into hiding. A couple of years later she became pregnant and I was the result. Don't ask me about my father – she never told me who he was or how she had met him. Or anything really."

Mara felt distinctly uncomfortable with Skywalker's eyes boring into her, searching, seeking through her very soul for the truth. She was slightly unnerved by the intensity of his gaze, but she steeled herself, knowing everything depended on his believing her. If he suspected her, he may simply kill her right here and dump her body over the side – he was completely ruthless. The fight on the barge had proved that fact, if her Master's files on him had not already confirmed it.

"How did you get here?" he asked, his eyes alight with curiosity.

"My mother died two years ago, but she taught me to be a dancer. That's what she did while we were hiding from the Empire. I was having trouble finding work and the Hutt paid well – I thought I'd work there for a few weeks, long enough to make a few credits and then leave to find work in a better place. Your arrival put an end to that – I hadn't even been paid yet."

Skywalker's face turned to sympathy and he started to reply, when she cut him off. "Look Jedi, I don't want your pity. Jabba was scum and the way he treated his dancers and slaves, he deserved to die. I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time and I'd really prefer not to discuss it any further."

The Jedi seemed as thought he would like to push the discussion further, but ultimately nodded. "Thank you for understanding…"

He was suddenly cut off by a voice from the back of the skiff. "Luke, I think you should have a look at this."

Skywalker glanced back, freeing Mara from the intensity of his eyes. She breathed a sigh of relief and followed his gaze back toward the rear of the skiff, where the dark skinned man was pointing off to the side of the racing craft. In the distance, she could make out what seemed to be a huge cloud towering kilometers into the sky, the air held a hint of a dry, burnt scent to it – almost as thought the desert were burning.

Skywalker abruptly stood up and looked out at the strange cloud, a concerned, almost worried look on his face. "Sand storm…" he murmured before standing and walking to the stern of the craft.

She watched the cloud in consternation and then noticed Skywalker calling the entire group closer. Warily watching the storm and Skywalker both, Mara scrambled to her feet and approached the group, noticing how most of them regarded her as suspiciously as she did them.

"You will all have to gather in close," he began, instantly in control of the situation. "I will pilot the skiff and will skirt the storm as much as possible, but we may have no choice but to go through it at some point."

Solo squinted out into the gloom. "How will you know where you're going? Looks pretty bad to me."

"I can guide us through the Force; Artoo can also help navigate."

Although he looked skeptical, Solo kept his mouth closed nonetheless. Mara personally had no doubt he could do what he claimed – his use of the Force was a convincing display of his capabilities.

"Can't we take shelter in a cave or something while it blows over?" Organa asked.

Skywalker shook his head. "Unfortunately Leia, we're in the middle of the Dune Sea and there are no rock formations for hundreds of miles. Our best bet is to get closer, gage the strength of the storm and head to Ben's place. From what I can see of the storm, it looks like we should be able to get back without having to go through the worst of it."

Taking over the controls, Skywalker set a course toward the left edge of the storm. "Han, Lando, Chewie," he said, calling the group's attention again. "When we get to the closer to the edge of the storm, the three of you will have to help protect the women. They aren't exactly dressed for this weather."

The dark skinned man – whom she assumed was Lando peered around at the others and then turned his attention back to Skywalker. "What do you suggest?"

"Put Leia and Arica in the middle and you, Han and Chewie can sit around them and shield them with your bodies. At least you have a little more clothing and protection than what they are wearing."

Mara could not believe what she was hearing. "Are you out of your mind?" she demanded. "If you think I'm going to snuggle with your friends…"

"You don't have a choice, Arica," Skywalker interrupted in his sickening, mild mannered voice – she was already beginning to hate the sound of it. "Sand storms are very dangerous and dressed the way you are, the best you could come out of it is with severely chafed skin. At worst, a sand storm can flay the skin right off your bones."

Mara gaped at him, snapping her mouth shut at the sound of the light snickers she heard from the two men. _We'll see,_ she thought angrily to herself, as she moved away from the loathsome group and back to the bow of the small craft to stare out at the approaching storm.

* * *

So it was that Mara found herself huddled with Skywalker's friends not long after, grateful for the meager protection the three offered – it galled her to admit even to herself that he was right. Even with the two men and the Wookiee surrounding her, she could still feel the sting of the wind-blown sand as it struck her skin in places where it was exposed. She shifted uncomfortably, aware of her close proximity to the princess. In all her time in training and as Emperor's hand, Mara had never been encouraged to become physically close to another being. Some of the missions she had undertaken had required a certain amount of contact, but she had never been in a situation quite like this – she was not quite certain exactly how this felt, but it was more than a little disconcerting, not to mention frightening.

To make matters even worse, the man he had called Lando had immediately sidled up behind her and pressed himself against her back, no doubt completely by design. If she hadn't been certain of the effect of the blowing sand on her skin, Mara would have thrown the slimy man over the edge of the skiff.

Sighing, she tried to relax – at least _Lando_ was not groping her.

_If he does, I swear I _will_ throw him off the side. Kriff Skywalker and his kriffing storm and his kriffing friends._

In the back of her mind though, she could still feel the Jedi as he calmly piloted them through the edge of the storm to safety, one hand shielding his eyes, the other steady on the controls. At least she could not fault his skills at the helm.


	5. Chapter 4

**A/N:** Thanks to everyone for their comments and encouragement. Here is the next chapter.

**Chapter 4**

The company stumbled through the door to the sparse, yet welcome safety of Ben's former abode, exhausted after their ordeal, yet exuberant over the success of the day. It was a small hut, only two small rooms with a cooking area and sonic fresher, causing all to feel crowded. Even so, it was welcome, a haven in the storm that still raged on outside, a respite from the horrors of the gangster and the fight against the Emperor, to which they knew they must soon return.

As the group relaxed, they began to move about, speaking of their experiences and the events of the day, plans for the future. Luke glanced around the room, watching with amusement as the group began to remove their outer gear. They looked a fright, the sweat of the day mixed with sand and dust to form a grime he was all too familiar with – Tatooine was not a planet for the overly fastidious. Small piles of dust began to form on the floor, shaken out of hair, clothes and fur, stirred about by the movements of the companions; it formed drifts and waves, particles eddying on the air currents.

"All right, everyone," Luke stated, "first things first. Let's all get cleaned up and changed, then we'll eat and plan our next move."

At the general agreement with his suggestion, Luke continued. "We can let the ladies use the fresher first, and then the men can have a go. Han, you will have some extra clothes on the Falcon. Arica…"

At the mention of her name, the group quieted, switching their focus to the one member who had not yet said anything nor made any movement. She was standing near the door, seemingly too uncertain to enter further into the cramped space of the hut, hair splayed out wildly by the wind and sand, arms wrapped around herself protectively. Unlike on the skiff, when the attention had been focused on her, this time she was aware of their scrutiny and to Luke's eyes looked immediately uncomfortable. She collected herself, however, and scowled back at the group, a challenging expression etched on her grime-streaked face.

"Leia, don't you have some clothes that would fit Arica?" Luke asked, breaking the silence. At once, the tension which seemed to have built up in the room abated, alleviated by the Jedi's calm and controlled words.

"Sure, Luke," Leia responded, gazing curiously at the red-haired woman. "Come with me, Arica."

Arica stared at them momentarily, before acquiescing with a slight shrug, and moved to join Leia as she entered the adjacent room. As she moved past Luke, she brushed up against him, causing him to start slightly at the contact; the feel of her silky soft dancing outfit, combined with the smoothness of her skin, raised the hairs on the back of his hand, causing sensations he was not certain he should be having, new as their acquaintance was.

Luke stared after her, all the thoughts he had had about her presence in Jabba's palace, her Force sensitivity and the touch of her consciousness now once again careening through his mind. And what was this connection between them – what did it all mean?

He was startled out of his thoughts by a loud snort and turned toward his companions, who were regarding him with amused expressions.

"I tell you, kid, you sure know how to pick them," Han said with a chuckle. "Come on; we can use the sonic fresher in the Falcon also."

With a last glance toward the entrance to the other room, Luke turned and followed his friends, Han's amused laughter haunting him the entire way.

* * *

Mara stood in the middle of the room, watching as the princess rummaged through her clothes and feeling awkward and out of place. Although Leia had not as yet said anything to her, she seemed to feel as ill-at-ease as Mara herself, although Mara could not say for certain. Even if Organa was not Force sensitive herself, she had a strong and well-ordered mind, one that Mara could not penetrate to read her thoughts without some effort – the only thing she was able to determine was the princess's emotions, wariness and distrust foremost among them. Forcing herself into Organa's mind to find out more would bring Skywalker down on her immediately, so she watched the other woman closely, relying on her observation coupled with the Force to enhance her perceptions.

The princess glanced up from her search, holding out a simple set of clothes – a white blouse and black pants. "These should fit you," she stated.

Mara accepted the clothes without comment, letting them fall out to their full length as she held them to her body. Skywalker had been right – she and the princess were roughly the same size, Mara perhaps a little taller, and of a similar slim, but athletic build.

"Thank you," Mara said simply, wanting to at least appear to try and fit in with the group.

She looked up and noticed Leia gazing at her with frank curiosity. "I saw you in the throne room, dancing for Jabba." At Mara's nod of assent, Leia continued, "You seemed… different than the others. How did you come to be there?"

Mara shook her head, not wanting to get into long, drawn out explanations about an imaginary past – she was well aware of the fact that she had nothing worked out. If she started making things up, it could very will trip her up if she made any mistakes or contradictory statements which could be compared later. "It's a long story," she responded dryly. "Suffice it to say, I needed money and Jabba paid well."

"I suppose he did, but I wouldn't really know. I wasn't exactly getting paid."

Her attempt at humor fell a little flat, but Mara gave her a brief smile anyway. "Don't feel too bad – he never got around to paying me either."

Their attempts to lighten the mood did nothing to ease the air of tension which pervaded the room and Leia's face once again grew serious. Mara felt as though she was under interrogation – Organa's expression was almost predatory, her gaze fixed on Mara, a vornskr eying its prey.

"Well, your showing up here is very fortuitous – you could have easily gone down with the sail barge."

"I guess some of us just have the luck," Mara answered, her flippant tone intending to brush off the underlying innuendo of convenient happenstance.

She should have known it would not work with the princess.

"Luck, maybe," Leia continued, her tone becoming… not precisely accusatory, but definitely challenging. "But I don't remember seeing you with the other dancers when we were on the sail barge. I didn't even know you were there until I saw you standing behind Luke with your blaster pointed at him."

She was skirting far too close to the truth for Mara's comfort. "I shot the thug _behind_ him, not the Jedi. Do you really think I could have missed him if I had really been trying to shoot him?"

Leia considered this for several moments, her face an unreadable mask, her mind still equally closed to Mara's questing senses. Knowing the whole operation relied on her convincing Leia of her sincerity, Mara willed her to belief – if she had to do something about the princess, killing or persuading her with the Force, she knew the chances of getting to Skywalker would all but disappear. Although she had trained extensively in combat, she knew his skill and training in the Force far exceeded her own – she needed the element of surprise.

At length Leia nodded. "I suppose that's true. And you do seem sincere, but I've learned through experience not to take anything at face value."

"A wise precaution," Mara murmured. "But I can assure you I'm here by chance and will be gone as soon as I can."

It was nothing but the literal truth.

"Fine," Leia responded, her posture and voice still laced with suspicion. "But that doesn't mean I won't be watching…"

_You go ahead and watch,_ Mara sneered to herself. _I could kill where you stand in a dozen different ways without even thinking about it._

To the princess she merely inclined her head, sensing words would gain her no more respect or trust than she was already given. The two women stared at each other for several more moments before Leia finally looked away.

"So, did you want to go first, or should I?"

Mara shrugged her shoulders. "You can, if you would like. You look far more uncomfortable in those clothes than I am."

Leia glanced down at the outfit and muttered something about her attire before inclining her head in thanks and entering the fresher.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Mara sank down on the edge of the small bed which stood in the corner of the room, completely drained from her standoff with Organa. Skywalker appeared to be generally trusting, but the princess was cut from a completely different cloth. It would take all her skill to deflect that mistrust until she was able to finish her mission.

It promised to be a long evening…

* * *

Luke stepped out of the sonic fresher, relieved at feeling clean once again. He had almost forgotten how dirty one could get on Tatooine, one of the many things he did not miss about the desert planet. The only thing he regretted was the lack of a real water shower.

Snorting slightly at himself, Luke considered the irony of the thought, fully aware that for the first eighteen years of his life he had never once used the precious water in such a wasteful manner. The first time he had used one on Yavin before the battle over the death star, he had thought it an extravagance, likely not to be repeated with any great frequency.

Shaking himself out of his reverie, Luke moved aside, allowing Lando entrance to the fresher, and strode down the hallway toward the Falcon's common area, where Han waited, freshly cleaned, with a steaming pot of hot caf waiting. Luke gratefully poured himself a mug and sat down in front of the dejarik table where Han and Chewie were conversing quietly.

"Hey, kid," Han began in a halting fashion, "I just wanted to tell you – thanks for coming for me. Now I owe you one."

Luke immediately understood – their roles had generally been reversed, with Han the one who had shown up to bail Luke out of tight situations. His friend was not completely certain how to handle this new development.

"Don't think anything of it," Luke responded, his hand waving Han's words away. "You know I'd never leave you in Jabba's clutches."

"I think a lot of it," Han replied sharply. "You don't know what it was like," he continued, his gaze losing focus. "Being in carbonite is like nothing I can describe – you're not really asleep or awake, it's just a whole lot of nothing."

Luke watched as his friend shuddered at the memory. He knew Han would eventually need to talk about this, unburden himself to a friend – but he suspected the time was not now. The experience was too new, too fresh in his memory for true healing to take place yet. Luke had been through a few experiences himself he would like to confide to another, but he knew he was not ready – may never be ready.

"Han," he said softly, "We've been through a lot together and I think we've gone beyond owing each other… I was happy to help."

Han glanced back at Luke, mischief written all over his face. "That's just because I've pulled your butt out of the fire so many times more than you've returned the favor," he drawled. "Of course you'd want to consider it even!"

"I'll tell you what," Luke countered, returning Han's grin, "you go and get yourself in trouble a couple more times and I'll come save you. _Then_ we can be even."

"It'd take more than a couple, Junior." Han laughed and slapped Luke on the back, the dark mood of the past few moments forgotten. The mood and feeling of camaraderie restored, they lapsed back into silence, each content with their own thoughts.

Chewie wuffed a comment, which Luke, still not completely comfortable with Shyriiwook, did not quite catch.

"That's right," Han said, setting his mug on the table and turning the full weight of his attention on the Jedi. "Chewie wants to know, what's with the redhead?"

"You were there," Luke responded with a shrug. "You know as much as I do."

"Yeah, well, I was a little preoccupied at the time. Come on; spill it – why have we picked up another pathetic life-form?"

Luke considered the absurdity of the statement – he suspected Arica was completely capable of taking care of herself and hardly pathetic. He decided, however, now was not the time to share exactly what had happened in the past day and the mysterious Arica with the rest of the group. Instead, he went for humor.

"Another?" he asked, avoiding the question for the moment.

"Yeah, well, I think Lando qualifies as pathetic, don't you?"

Luke broke into a wide grin at the outrageous comment – it was so much like the Han he knew so well.

"Come on, kid, where did she come from?"

"Well, you know me and damsels in distress." Luke focused his attention on the mug in his hand, hoping Han would catch the hint and drop the subject.

Han snorted. "Sorry to cool your engines here, kid, but that one's hardly a damsel and I doubt she was in distress. The way she was looking at you back there… She's more like a rancor and you're her next meal."

Luke laughed – the sound almost surprising himself – it had been many weeks since he had had occasion to laugh. "Don't worry, Han, I'll keep an eye on her. I don't sense any danger from her anyway."

"Maybe so," Han responded, rising to his feet, "but I don't know her and don't trust her. Let's go over to that hut of yours – I don't like her being there alone with Leia."

Knowing his friend was not to be dissuaded, Luke stood in response. "What about Lando?"

"Lando's a big boy, I'm sure he can find his way," Han returned. "Besides, I'm not certain I trust Lando either."

* * *

The entire group had gathered in the main room of the hut, Lando having joined sometime after the rest had left the Falcon. The companions spoke quietly among themselves, Lando and Han having shook hands and the grudging thanks and barbed comments which passed between them seemed to have warmed them to each other. They now spoke as long parted acquaintances, each getting to know the other again, but both uncertain as to the exact nature of their changed relationship. Luke suspected it would be some time before they felt completely comfortable with each other.

Luke's attention was only partially on the ongoing conversation in the room – he was focused on the fresher, where the last member of the party was still holed up nearly an hour after their arrival. Although Luke still could not get any impression of Arica's thoughts, he could feel the emotions slipping through her barriers – confusion, apprehension, mixed with a certain amount of anger seemed prevalent among them. He suspected she would make an appearance soon, but was not certain in his own mind whether he was anticipating or dreading that moment.

He was fascinated by her – from the way she had quested out to his Force signature, to her appearance on the sail barge, smoking blaster in hand as she gunned down the thug who had slipped in behind him. Maybe it was just the fact that he had never met another Force user, one who was close to his own age. He would have been willing to believe he was the last, even though he knew that in a galaxy with trillions of beings, he being the last Force user would be unlikely in the extreme.

The clearing of a throat nearby caught his attention and Luke glanced back at his friends, finding a wry look on Han's face. Realizing he had been staring toward the fresher for some time, Luke colored slightly. His companions' expressions ranged from amusement, on Han's face, to worry on Leia's.

Ultimately, the princess won out and Leia leaned slightly forward, her eyes fixed on Luke. "Luke, I don't trust her. She's hiding something."

"Aren't we all?" Luke asked rhetorically. "I really don't think we have anything to talk about."

Leia's face held nothing but exasperation at his words. "Luke, that's different and you know it. We don't know where she came from, or how she got into Jabba's palace – all I'm asking is for you to be careful."

"I know that, Leia," Luke responded, his tone sharp and final. "I will keep an eye on her, but I will not condemn someone based on nothing more than not knowing anything about them. Besides, once we find out where she's going, we can see her off – I doubt we'll see her again."

"Come on, Leia," Han chimed in, his tone conciliatory, "I'm sure the kid knows what he's doing. Besides, even if she is hostile, she would have to take us all on."

Leia looked unconvinced, her face was troubled and she appeared to be struggling to reconcile her emotions with his words. Knowing she was not likely to be convinced and any discussions of the Force or mysterious connections would have no effect on her opinion, Luke decided to try a different tack.

"Look, Leia," Luke began, grateful for Han's support, "I understand your concern, but for right now we appear to be stuck with her. What would you have me do – turn her out to fend for herself?"

He did not expect an answer to his question; to do so would be tantamount to a death sentence – a fact Leia fully understood. Although she considered his words and her expression softened, the worry did not disappear from her face.

"Leia, trust me – I will watch her while she is with us."

Not appearing mollified in the slightest, Leia nevertheless nodded her head in reluctant agreement.

"There is something else to consider…" Luke began quietly. "She's Force sensitive."

Several sets of eyes immediately turned to stare at Luke, incredulous expressions painted on surprised faces.

"Are you certain?" Leia breathed.

"Yes Leia – I can feel it."

Stunned silence greeted his declaration and at that moment the door to the fresher opened and the subject of their discussions exited the fresher to stand self-consciously in the entrance as she gazed at the assembled group.

This time, however, Luke was not about to allow an uncomfortable silence develop as before. He rose immediately and gestured for Arica to join the group. "Please join us," he said, backing up the gesture with an invitation.

She regarded him momentarily, her expression unreadable, before finally moving to a chair situated slightly away from the group and sinking down into it, her eyes never once leaving the others. There was something he could not quite place in her gaze – something which hinted at competence and confidence, action and a certain danger, yet also concealed insecurities and scars, never fully healed. He had never been so fascinated, so intrigued by another person – it both thrilled him with its newness and scared him with its suddenness and intensity.

"I suppose we should start with the introductions," Luke began, aware of the silence which was quickly threatening to engulf the room once again. "Everyone, this is Arica…"

"Just Arica," she interjected quickly.

Unfazed, Luke simply nodded his head. "Arica, this is Han, Leia, Chewie and…"

"Hello, I am Lando Calrissian, former Baron Administrator of Cloud City," Lando said, cutting Luke off. He rose to his feet and taking Arica's hand, bowed and kissed the back of it with a flourish.

Luke had certainly seen Lando turn on the charm before – in the time they had spent together searching for Han, they had had occasion to be found in many places Luke would have rather avoided. And the man did have a way of acting, a way of charming others and putting others at ease – he was naturally charismatic and likeable.

But Luke had also seen the man in action, seen him turn on the charm to members of the opposite sex. He had to admit he found the man's manner with women to be insincere and overly flirtatious – generally speaking somewhat clichéd and flattered without any real substance. Now, seeing him act this way with Arica set Luke's teeth on edge and caused a spike of… something go though him – something Luke preferred not to dwell on. He forced it down and willed himself to watch the encounter passively, curious as to what Arica's reaction would be.

Arica glanced up at Lando coolly, instantly pulling her hand from his grasp. "I suggest you get your hands off me if you don't want to lose them, Calrissian," she said, smiling sweetly up at Lando the whole time.

The look of shock which appeared on Lando's face was almost comical and Chewie's soft wuffing coupled with Han's amused chuckle caused Lando to flush. He pressed on gamely, however, sitting down near Arica and launching into an animated, and mostly one-sided, conversation.

Luke glanced over at Han, catching the rolled eyes and shrug of the other. _It's going to be a long night,_ he thought, seating himself, watching the interaction between the dancer and the sweet-talking baron.

* * *

Mara started awake, her eyes raking the room for any hint of danger. Seeing nothing which would account for her starting so, she relaxed, realizing it must have been the dreams again shocking her into wakefulness.

It had been an interminable, restless night, plagued with nightmares featuring the Jedi and her master in equal measure. Even now, the memory of them was fading, drifting off into the recesses of her consciousness, leaving her with nothing more than images, impressions of the things dredged up from the corners of her mind, displayed before her eyes in the form of the dreams. Concentrate as she might, she could not recall the specifics – only the impression of the Emperor's triumphant cackle and sometimes an insane wailing she instinctively knew was his, the clash of lightsabers, red on green, the hard look of determination in Skywalker's blue eyes and one particularly vivid picture of Skywalker bathed in the electrical blue light of the Emperor's favorite disciplinary technique.

She shuddered. Having been the recipient of her master's wrath, it was not an experience she would wish on anyone, friend or foe.

Sighing, Mara glanced again at the empty room, knowing Skywalker slept on the other side of the wall. Even now, his presence was firmly fixed in her subconscious, anchored in a small niche of her mind, pulsating – a constant reminder of the connection which had sprung into being between them. She was beginning to wonder if there would be a backlash on her psyche when she killed him.

A soft snore brought her attention back to the occupants of the other room, specifically the other person she had not yet thought of – Calrissian. The mere thought of the idiotic man caused her mood to darken.

She had been right – it had been an excruciatingly long evening, although in reality it had only been an hour or so before they had decided to retire. Through it all, Calrissian had stayed by her, cajoling her into speaking when she would have preferred to remain silent, attempting to flatter her with his banal platitudes and insincere adulation, reaching out and touching her in what he clearly thought to be a flirtatious way, but which she considered to be merely overly forward and uncomfortable. _He_ obviously considered himself to be a suave, slick ladies' man – Mara considered him to be a vain, shallow oaf. If he had been her target rather than Skywalker, he would already be dead…

Still, she had sensed something from Skywalker when Calrissian had introduced himself to her, a surge of something which almost felt like jealousy.

She snorted to herself. She must have been mistaken – it wasn't like she was anything to Skywalker, after all. And the thought of Skywalker actually having something to be jealous of, namely her actually being in a relationship with the slimy Calrissian, made her feel physically sick.

She began to feel a slight pressure against her consciousness as she considered the previous evening – a phenomenon she had come to associate with the Emperor's questing conscience. His attempt to contact her had probably been the reason for her awaking so abruptly, although she had not realized it at the time.

Mara felt a moment of panic – if she were to accept the Emperor's communication from this room, it was likely Skywalker would sense it and investigate. She clearly had to get out of the hut to protect against his observation.

She rose to her feet, determined to exit the small hut and receive her master's contact from a safer location. She moved stealthily to the doorway and passed through, glancing around surreptitiously at the forms of the two sleeping men – the others had all retired to Solo's ship for the night. Quickly she exited the building, peering back to ensure she had not disturbed the two occupants.

Outside, the twin suns had commenced their ascent into the blue of the Tatooine sky and the day, although still early morning, had already begun to climb into another of the planet's interminably hot days. Mara glanced around, ensuring none of the company on the ship was out for an early morning walk, and spying a small rock formation a distance away from the hut, made her way toward it, internally preparing for the exchange with her master.

The rock was hard and uncomfortable, but smooth with the eons of wind and sand polishing it, and she was certain she would have sand in her clothes in no time. But it was convenient and away from Skywalker. Mara sat down and relaxed, her mind emptying of all extraneous thoughts, her will focused on the task at hand. Reaching out, she latched on to the Emperor's questing presence and initiated contact.

_What is thy bidding, my Master? _she sent.

_My Hand,_ the Emperor responded, causing her to wince imperceptibly. As far back as she could remember, her master had never once addressed her by name. _Report. Has your mission been successful?_

_Not yet, Master, _she prevaricated. _Events did not play out as expected at Jabba's palace and I did not have a clear opportunity…_

_Not yet! _her Master spat, cutting her off. _You have failed?_

Mara could almost see the flecks of gold lighting up in her Master's eyes as they did whenever he was angry. _No Master, _she sent back immediately. _I have not failed; circumstances warranted a change in plans._

The silence spread between them interminably, as she waited for his response.

_What is your current status?_ he suddenly queried, causing her to jump in surprise.

_I am with Skywalker and his friends. I didn't have a clear opportunity to remove Skywalker during the confrontation in the palace. The Hutt foolishly thought he could destroy the Jedi by feeding him to a sarlacc which has made its burrow near the palace, ordering his sail barge out to feed the beast. Skywalker believes that he rescued me from the sail barge before it was destroyed – a belief which I have encouraged. They plan to stay here another day before leaving, during which time I plan to get Skywalker alone and fulfill the mission._

_Skywalker has become resourceful – exactly as I have predicted. His potential is impressive… What has his impression been of you?_

This definitely crossed over into an area with which Mara was uncomfortable – she barely understood the connection between her and the Jedi herself. Attempting to explain it to her master would be difficult and unwise. _He seems to be fascinated by me,_ she dissembled, hoping the Emperor would not detect her evasive answer.

_No doubt he has never met another Force sensitive his own age,_ the Emperor responded. _This opens several interesting possibilities…_

Mara suspected the Emperor was thinking out loud – so to speak – and that the last thought was not directed at her – she could almost feel the malicious glee in his voice as he considered the possible changes in his machinations. He sometimes mused upon the information she passed on to him, almost forgetting they were still joined in the link. She knew better than to take any notice of it though, for all she knew he could have made the remark, waiting to see what her response was.

_I promise you, Master, Skywalker will be dead by the end of the day. _

_No,_ the Emperor's voice rang in her head. _Since you have failed your task, consider your orders rescinded. I have new instructions for you._

Mara was shocked. _But Master…_

_You dare to contradict me?_ the Emperor's voice, harsh and flat, echoed in her mind.

_No Master,_ Mara quickly responded, instantly subservient and obedient.

_The situation has changed,_ came the response. _I do not want him dead – at least for the moment. I have a much more… interesting fate planned for him._

Mara was intrigued. _Then what is your command,_ _my Master?_

_Stay with Skywalker, become his friend, his confidante, his trusted companion. Ingratiate yourself into his circle, into his life, into his bed if you can. Do everything you can to get to know him better – observe him, learn from him and find out all you can about his background, his life, his training in the Force. But do not let him out of your sight – I expect you to accompany him when he is finally brought before me to meet his destiny._

_Brought before you? Do you expect him to be captured?_

The Emperor's amused cackle rang in her head. _No, the fool will give himself up willingly – I have foreseen it._

_By your command, my Master._

The Emperor was silent again, but she could feel the malevolent amusement as it rolled off him in waves. _Yes it is, isn't it?_ he finally cackled in response. _Just be certain to stay close to him – I will be most displeased if he should discover your real purpose._

_He will not,_ _my Master._

_See that he does not!_ His voice was harsh and cruel. _You have already failed me once and earned your punishment. I do not know that you would survive the punishment if you fail me again!_

Abruptly the connection was cut, snapped by the Emperor, leaving Mara breathless and fearful, her mind whirling with emotions and questions best left unexplored. She shunted her whirling emotions to the corner of her mind and concentrated on her orders, several of which were uncharted territory for her. The Emperor had never rescinded an assassination order once it had been given – her instructions had always been to eliminate the target with extreme prejudice or die in the attempt.

Now she had been given a different task – one she was not certain she was capable of pulling off. How could she manage to keep Skywalker at bay for however long she was forced to endure his company?

And the Emperor had actually commanded her to seduce Skywalker if she got the chance… She instinctively shied away from the thought. It had always been assumed that she would use everything at her disposal to eliminate a target and her femininity and looks had been useful in more than one situation, helping her to move within striking range, enabling her to fulfill more than one mission.

But he had never _commanded_ her to do such a thing – it had always been the one thing which was her own to give. She had dreamed that one day she would be able to give that gift to a man of her own choosing, someone who was more to her than simply another target. It had always made her extra diligent in her missions, something which if she ever had to do while on a mission, it would be because she had failed to complete it in another way. It would be her own fault. And now her master had taken even that away from her. In seducing Skywalker, she would be nothing more than a common whore – given to her master's enemy in pursuit of his goals, his plans, whatever they were.

She wiped furiously at her eyes, dashing away the tears which had accumulated there – she should have known better than to harbor such desires and romantic feelings. She was who she was – nothing would change that fact. She would perform this mission to the best of her capacity, something she had done on every other mission in the past. She had never allowed her feelings to interfere with her duty before and she was not about to start now.

Her duty… It was all she had ever really had. Even her relationship with her Master – if relationship it could be called – had never given her any personal satisfaction; the execution of his will had never affected her. It was all for him. Her Master demanded her competence and her obedience and had never shown her any affection nor accepted any from her, even when she had been very young.

She felt an instant of remorse and longing for something she had never had, but brutally clamped down on her emotions – they were unworthy. She had everything she could ever want or need in the service of the Empire; what more _could_ she want?


	6. Chapter 5

**A/N: **This one took a little long than I wanted, but here it is.

**Chapter 5**

The interior of the hut was still and silent as Luke started awake and peered uneasily about. Sitting up in his makeshift pallet, Luke attempted to wipe the sleep from his eyes, while simultaneously trying to track down the elusive feeling which had awoken him. The room, however, appeared calm and undisturbed – it was still early morning, the suns having made their appearance not long before, and across the room Lando snored, still deep in slumber.

Deciding it had been nothing more than a feeling, Luke made to lie down once again when it once again struck him – the feeling of thousands of tiny needles jabbing into the base of his skull. It was definitely of the dark side.

Once again Luke sat bolt upright, this time all vestiges of sleep gone as he immediately began questing about for the feeling. However, it remained a vague and intangible feeling of malice and hatred, eluding his attempts to pin it down and track it to its source, filling him with dread. It was eerily reminiscent of Vader's sinister presence, but different somehow – darker.

Intent on finding the cause of the feeling, Luke rose from his pallet. He briefly glanced at Lando, who was still sleeping peacefully, undisturbed by the sensations which plagued the Jedi. On impulse, Luke quickly made his way to bedroom door, poking his head hesitantly into the room to check on the young woman sleeping there.

Arica was not in the bed.

Shocked, Luke quickly checked the fresher, but seeing the door open, he immediately dismissed the possibility – Arica was not in the hut.

Feeling unaccountably nervous at the thought that she might have left during the night, Luke calmed himself and stretched out with the Force.

She was not difficult to find – her presence in the Force was by now more familiar to him then he would ever have thought possible. She was outside, her presence a bright flare, a contrast to the generally empty nature of the planet. As he considered her through the Force, Luke felt a flicker, almost an echo of his now almost forgotten feeling of unease, but before he could latch on to it, the feeling was gone. The sensation which had awoken him had also departed.

Stopping to consider the situation, Luke once again directed his attention toward the young woman. Han loved to tease him about his supposed naiveté and generally trusting reactions toward others, but although Luke usually played along with his friend good-naturedly, he had also not been born just yesterday. Even in the midst of this surprising and mysterious connection he seemed to have developed with Arica, he also knew she was not being completely up front with him. Her mental shields were such that it had been impossible to detect outright falsehoods from her, but by the same token, he was positive she had not told him everything. Of course, they had only had the one brief conversation about her past and her reason for being in Jabba's throne room and one could hardly hope to achieve a relationship of trust based on so short an acquaintance. But he knew the story of her mother being a Jedi and her needing money was not the whole story, or maybe not even the truth at all – she had, after all, no real reason to trust him at this point.

Sighing, Luke ran a hand through his hair, slightly annoyed at this extra level of complexity to his already complicated life. This mission was supposed to be nothing more than a quick rescue mission – pull Han out of Jabba's clutches and then return to the fleet, ready for the next move by the Alliance. According to Leia, a pre-emptive strike on the Empire was in the offing and they could not afford to be held up on Tatooine for any longer – and if what Luke had been sensing through the Force lately was any indication, it was looking as thought the whole thing would be decided in a matter of weeks. And that was without even considering the need to fulfill a promise, one he had been avoiding for far too long already…

Yet now he was stuck with another complication; a connection with a young, Force sensitive woman whom he had just met the day before, but already felt as if he had known her all his life and was more than a little attracted to, if he were honest with himself. It was confusing, to say the least.

Knowing he was not about to discover the answers to his questions standing in the hut, Luke made his way to the door, exiting without waking Lando.

Ignoring the already oppressive heat of the day, Luke shielded his eyes from the glare and peered about. He spotted her immediately as she was seated on the edge of the large rock formation close to Ben's hut. Luke could feel no darkness coming from her – whatever the feeling he had sensed earlier was, she was not its origin. She sat facing away from him, her legs curled up under her body, her head bowed – her whole demeanor bespoke a great weight on her shoulders, a trial or anxiety so great it consumed her. She was very unhappy – that much he could sense.

Taking care not to hide his presence, Luke approached her. Even so, he was no more than a few meters away from him, when he saw her suddenly stiffen and felt the brush of her consciousness against his own as she became aware of him.

"What do you want?" she demanded, her voice flat and cold.

Instinctively Luke knew not to mention his real reason for waking. "I grew up on a farm not far from here," he said with a shrug. "Living on a moisture farm, you don't get used to sleeping in."

Arica glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, although she did not completely turn in his direction. "Grew up on a farm." At his nod she continued, "Well then, _Farmboy_, I can tell right off that your time growing up on the _farm_ did not teach you how to dissemble – so I suggest you don't bother. Now, what's _really_ on your mind?"

Luke grinned in response – his acquaintances had all told him repeatedly about how poor of a liar he was. It was hardly surprising she had noticed it too. "Just a feeling, nothing more… Although what I told you was the truth – I did grow up not far from here and am not in the habit of sleeping much later than this anyway."

"Yes, yes, you're an early riser, got it," she snapped. "But what do you want with me? You must have some purpose in coming out here and I doubt it was to gaze at the wonderful scenery."

"Do I have to have a reason?" Luke demanded, becoming irritated with her accusatory tone of voice.

"Oh come on, Farmboy. You must have _some_ reason for coming out here looking for me. Frankly I would have expected it more from your friend than from you."

Keeping his temper with some effort, Luke turned away. Her Force sense told him she was upset about something but he was also oddly certain whatever was bothering her, it was not the fact he had come out to speak with her.

"Lando's not so bad when you get to know him," he said at last.

"He wasn't hitting on _you_," she retorted.

"No and for that I am profoundly grateful."

For once, Luke was rewarded by the brief smile which appeared on her face. It did not last long, however, being immediately replaced by the intense scowl she had worn when he had first joined her on the rock formation.

"Look, Farmboy," she began, her manner tentative, "you may mean well, but I simply don't trust very well. I don't expect you to understand, but I have my reasons."

Her hesitant confession told Luke all he needed to know. Although he wanted her to stay, to get to know her and find out what the connection was between them, he also knew she would not be persuaded. Even after so short an acquaintance, he knew she was a strong individual with self-admitted trust issues and if he attempted to get her to stay, he was certain she would resist and close herself off even more.

"Arica, I understand we've just met and I don't expect you to begin to trust me immediately. I know you were pulled into this business with Jabba and I don't blame you for being upset at the way things turned out. Look, we're going to be here for another day, but that doesn't mean you have to stay. I can take you to Anchorhead or Mos Eisley if you would like to leave."

He half expected her to jump at the chance to leave – he was _not_ expecting the sudden surge of fear he detected from her. Her eyes widened at his words and she locked her gaze on his – Luke could almost see the fright in her eyes.

"I wouldn't want to inconvenience you," she responded quickly.

"It's no trouble at all," Luke responded, wondering at her strange attitude. At first it had seemed she wanted nothing more than to be away from him and now she almost seemed afraid to leave. "I'm heading out that way anyway," he continued. "If you have someone waiting for you, or a transport to get off the planet, I could simply drop you off wherever you need to go and you can leave."

She watched him for several moments, her brows furrowed, her manner suspicious. "I thought you were staying until tomorrow – at least that's what you all decided yesterday."

Luke looked away from her and peered out at the vast expanse of the desert, his mind far away as he contemplated his errand. He had not been back since that horrible day… had not even been back to Tatooine until very recently. It was a task he was not looking forward to, but knew he had put off for far too long. If he was ever to have closure on that part of his life, he knew he would have to face the demons and put them to rest.

Realizing he had been silent for too long, Luke glanced back at Arica, finding her eyes still fixed on his face, her expression intense and more than a little curious. He ducked his head and murmured, "I have a personal matter to take care of…"

Arica, however, did not get the hint – or she ignored it. "Personal matter?"

"Yeah, a personal matter – as in _personal_," Luke snapped back at her.

He instantly felt remorse for his hasty and rude words as he saw her expression change to a scowl. He was trying to get to know her, for Force sake; snapping at her was not about to improve her disposition toward him.

"I'm sorry, Arica," he said quickly before she could utter a scathing reply. "It's kind of a painful thing for me. I know that's no reason to snap at you."

Her eyes narrowed as she considered his words, before ultimately softening slightly. She turned away to gaze out over the vast expanse of the desert, more to avoid blistering his ears with another retort, Luke sensed, than for any other reason.

"Look, Arica," Luke began, "it's no big secret – just a painful topic for me which I have never truly come to grips with."

Her eyes turned back toward him and Luke sat there, thinking, wondering how much he should tell this mysterious woman. She was an enigma thus far. She seemed determined to avoid getting to know him or any of the others – something which made sense if she planned to leave at the first opportunity, but not so much if she was intent on staying for a while. He could sense she was uneasy in his and the others' presence – whether she had been alone for too long, or if her mother had kept her apart from others deliberately, Luke was not certain. Somehow, if he was to come to know her better, he would have to defrost the cold exterior she presented, something he was not certain she would even want. But there was the connection to consider as well – Luke very much wanted to know what it was, why they had linked up so quickly.

It would not be easy, but somehow convincing her to stay until they had had an opportunity to discover what it meant seemed extremely… important.

"I mentioned I grew up close by…" Luke began in a halting manner, realizing with a certain level of surprise he was about to tell her what he had shared with a very few others. "The day I left home, my aunt and uncle were killed by stormtroopers…"

Her eyes widened in surprise, but she gave away no other reaction, nor did she speak.

Feeling the sorrow he had felt on that day, almost as thought it was a recent occurrence, Luke continued. "They were looking for the droids… had tracked them to our moisture farm… I had gone out looking for Artoo that morning because he had left to look for a Jedi Master. If I had been there…"

It was almost too much for Luke to continue, but steeling himself, he forged ahead. "The events of that day were the catalyst, the impetus for me to finally leave this dust ball and head out into the galaxy. I left the planet without looking back, joined the rebellion and in time began training to be a Jedi. But in all that time, I've never been back – this is something I have to do…"

"I must put the ghosts to rest."

Silence greeted his words and he sensed Arica was struggling, not knowing what to say.

"I'm sorry for your loss," she finally murmured, looking somewhat embarrassed.

Luke smiled, amused by her awkward way of expressing herself. The urge to know her better was suddenly that much stronger.

"The loss is old," he replied with a shrug, the gesture far more casual than he felt. "I don't truly mourn them any longer – it has been four years after all. It's more… the… responsibility I feel for their deaths… I keep thinking I could have done something to prevent it. I haven't been back in all that time… It's time I visited once more – bid them goodbye."

"I can understand that," she said, glancing at him again.

"So, what about you?" Luke asked, eager to change the subject. "You've told me you're a dancer and that your mother was a Jedi, but nothing more. I felt your presence when I approached the throne room and the brush of your consciousness against mine."

"I sensed you approaching," she replied, her tone indicating it was of no consequence.

"Did you receive much training from your mother?" Luke pressed, intensely curious.

Arica shook her head, her manner appearing somewhat… evasive. "She maintained it was safer for me to remain untrained. She showed me a few rudimentary skills and I have picked up some on my own, but I don't know much."

"Well, I'm hardly a Master, but I'd be happy to give you a few pointers."

Arica looked up at him, astonishment affixed to her features. "You'd be willing to do that?"

"Sure," Luke responded with a shrug. "Like I said, just don't expect much – I'm still just learning myself."

Her responding smile was uncertain and tentative, but no less beautiful for that, enticing Luke's thoughts into a completely different direction. He had known she was attractive – would have been blind not to notice – but when she smiled, a full, genuine smile, her face lit up and Luke was struck with exactly how beautiful she really was.

Mentally shaking himself away from those thoughts, knowing she would be less than accepting of his regard, Luke ducked his head and stood, intending to leave her and prepare for his excursion. His thoughts were arrested, however, when Arica peered up at him, a resolute, determined expression on her face.

"Going to visit your old home?"

"Yes," Luke began, wondering at her sudden change in mood, "I'd like to get back early as I will be leaving tomorrow."

She looked confused momentarily at his pronoun use, but seemed to ignore it, carefully placing a small smile on her face. "Would you like some company?"

Luke simply stared at her, shocked at her suggestion – she had seemed more inclined to avoid him at all costs. It was a complete change in attitude and Luke was uncertain of what had prompted it.

"I wouldn't mind the company," he responded slowly. "Are you certain? It's not like it would be very interesting for you…"

"What else is there for me to do?" she asked rhetorically. "I suppose I could just stay here and be hit on by Calrissian…"

An image of an ardent Lando, wooing a decidedly uninterested Arica from bended knee, overly flowery words spilling from his lips, entered Luke's mind and he chuckled softly. No, if he was any judge of character at all, Arica would not enjoy Lando's attentions in the least.

"I suppose I could use the company," he told her, giving her a knowing smile. "You can come along. Let's get something to eat quickly and get out of here – it will take us a while to get there."

She nodded in acquiescence and the two stood together and walked back to the hut, each wondering at the strange turn their conversation had taken and the journey now before them.

* * *

The desert was harsh and strict, exacting its price from all who toiled in its depths – an unfeeling, merciless killer to those who did not respect it. On most planets, areas of desert were to be assiduously avoided, shunned in favor of more hospitable and attractive climes, a haven only for those hardy and wanting solitude, or those desperate and seeking a ready place to hide. On a planet such as this, where the desert was massive and planet-spanning, the unwary or unprepared could measure the length of their lives in mere days, if not hours. Given its inhospitable nature and the difficulty living here presented, it was a wonder anyone managed to eke out a bare existence at all. Still, for all its difficulties and hazards, Tatooine held a certain beauty, discovered only by spending some time in its furnace-like atmosphere and examining what the planet had to offer.

As the speeder raced across the vast expanse of the Dune Sea, Mara sat in the passenger seat, her mind occupied with the vista spread out before her weary eyes. The light was brilliant, an overpowering display of white-hot rays from the dual suns which, reflecting off the shifting sands and exposed rock, increased and amplified the effect, causing her eyes to fatigue and her head to throb painfully. The trip to Jabba's palace and the subsequent voyage out to the Sarlacc pit had been taken in covered vehicles – this was the first time Mara had been subjected to the murderous light to any great degree.

Through the light and haze of the day, the landscape of the desert planet had a strange, understated appeal – something Mara would never have imagined could exist before arriving here. The windswept dunes flowed across the vista, the patterns intricate and fascinating, at times completely random and at others almost familiar, tantalizing her senses with almost recognizable images and vague impressions. Off in the distance, the light reflecting off the desert floor created a mirage, an empty promise of an oasis in the wasteland. And she knew there was flora of a sort, a few hardy plants which not only survived, but thrived, amazing her with the tenacity of life and the struggle to survive. Its beauty was austere, but it was there nonetheless, from the clear and utter blue of the sky to the surface of the planet ravaged by the wind and the light of the suns.

Sighing softly, she pulled the wide brimmed hat down over her eyes a little further, grateful Skywalker had seen fit to lend it to her – she shuddered to think of the effect the suns would have on her fair skin without it.

Skywalker. He was still an enigma, a contradiction to her eyes, not only when contrasted with the information contained in her files, but also in his actions since she had crossed his path, both in his interactions with others and with her directly.

His brutal efficiency and cold implacability during the battle on the sail barge spoke of his ruthlessness toward his enemies – her files had spoken plainly of the man's pitiless resolve and his intention to overthrow the legitimate galactic government. Seeing him in action only reinforced the threat he posed – a threat she knew she had misjudged badly.

On the other hand, he was generally calm and kind in his dealings with others and had been nothing but respectful and considerate in his interactions with her. She had half expected him to treat her as an inferior, a sub-being not worthy of his attention and consideration.

She shied away from that last thought, uncomfortable with the knowledge that her expectations of what Skywalker would be like were actually very close to what she _knew _her master was.

And his offer to teach her of the Force…

Of all the contradictions and shocks she had endured in the last several days, this was perhaps the most surprising of all. It was nothing like she had been taught to believe of the Jedi of old – they had been a mystical order, closed and secretive in their dealings with the galaxy and jealously protective of their knowledge and powers. None of the Jedi of the Old Republic would have offered to teach her – a stranger and outsider – anything of their abilities. According to her master, they would rather have tried to indoctrinate her into their ranks and ways, holding off vital information in the use of her powers until they were certain of her loyalty and their ability to control her.

She was uncertain what she should do.

Her master had ordered her to become closer to Skywalker and learn from him, but did that include his offer to instruct her in the ways of the Force? Would he want her tainted by what he would consider to be the heretical teachings of a long-dead order of misfits and troublemakers? Had he foreseen the Jedi's suggestion and seen it as a way for her to gain Skywalker's trust, or was this a test of her loyalty? Or could he even have imagined Skywalker making this suggestion in the first place?

It was all so confusing.

One thing she was aware of – whatever connection she had felt between herself and the Jedi, whatever had been the compulsion which had stayed her hand when she should have acted without hesitation and mercy, she was no more able to ignore it than she was able to fly across the sands on thought alone. Somehow she had been caught, snared in a situation for which she was unprepared and unable to disengage. She had no choice but to ride it out until its conclusion, hoping she would not get trampled and left for dead in the process.

The speeder began to gradually slow and her eyes immediately picked out an anomaly in the otherwise flat expanse of terrain. A small dome rose up out of the desert, its adobe sandstone walls bleached almost white by the light of the suns.

They had arrived.

Turning to Skywalker as they slowed to a halt in front of the structure, Mara immediately noticed a change in his visage she had not seen before. His face had changed, as though it had been replaced by a mask – an expressionless, intimidating caricature of the usually open, affable state of his features.

She could feel the effort he was expending to hold his feelings in closely.

The vehicle stopped and Skywalker quickly jumped out, leaving Mara to scramble out on her own and hurry to catch up. He gazed around the area, eyes intense and focused – Mara could almost see the memories, events of a young life as they flitted across his mind. She followed his eyes, noting the large pit situated behind the dome, the old, weather-beaten equipment – or what was left of it – which jutted up in various locations around the small homestead.

There was nothing moving, nothing living that she could tell – nothing but the ghosts of Skywalker's memories.

Skywalker turned to her, looking seriously into her eyes, seeming to remember he was not alone. "You don't have to come, Arica," he said, his voice soft, almost inaudible. "I appreciate your company, but these are my demons to face – not yours."

Mara snorted at the ludicrous statement – they had hardly spoken a dozen words on the trip out here. The word 'company' was perhaps overstated. "I've come this far, Farmboy – you look like you could use the companionship."

He smiled briefly and somewhat falsely, to Mara's eye – whatever front he put up to hide his feelings, this was obviously affecting him more than he wanted to admit. "I probably could, at that," he responded, glancing back around at the homestead. "Let's go then. Please stay behind me. There _shouldn't_ be anything dangerous in here – maybe a womprat or two – but I wouldn't want to put you in danger."

Resisting the urge to remind him of her ability to take care of herself, Mara merely nodded, aware he was the one with the knowledge of the environment and its dangers. It would only be prudent.

They started down the worn steps to the interior of the abode, a glowstick held in Skywalker's hand providing the illumination to the interior of the building. Although it had not been obvious from the outside, the scars of the attack which had claimed the lives of his relatives were evident in the scorches which marked the inside of the building. They moved from room to room, Skywalker's gaze taking in every detail. The burned out kitchen unit, the cooler in the corner and cooking unit along the far wall damaged, melted beyond repair, the sparse furniture, including table where she assumed their family meals had been eaten, had been reduced to heaps of slag on the floor. There were understandably no ashes from wood, trees being extremely scarce on the planet, wooden furniture being an exorbitant luxury – one these poor moisture farmers had certainly not been able to afford.

In another room, one she assumed had been a bedroom, the fire had caused much less damage before it had burnt itself out, but there was nothing left of any value, as she would have expected. No doubt Jawas would have gotten to the remains within days of the event and cleaned out anything of value from the site.

From the interior of the house, they descended down into the depths of the pit, where the remains of the machinery, droids and power converters, as well as various pieces which she assumed had once been moisture vaporators, lifeblood of the farm, sat where they lay, scattered about in random fashion, a remnant of the vibrant dwelling this had once been.

The desert had already begun to reclaim the homestead from the interlopers – heaps of sand and dust piled high along the walls of the area, some higher than Mara's head. In a few years, nothing would be left of the settlement but memories and a few broken and twisted pieces of metal – those would remain, preserved by the dryness of the atmosphere and the absence of any kind of rusting agent.

Through the whole experience, Mara watched Skywalker, noting the expression on his face, which remained the same stoic mask he had worn since they had arrived, the places he looked and the emotions he kept firmly in check, but sometimes escaped from his control and slipped out through his shields.

The sights of his childhood were affecting him severely.

"Not much left, is there?" he murmured into the still air, his voice an intruder into the silent gloom of the destroyed homestead.

It was a rhetorical question – one Mara knew did not require an answer. "So you grew up here?"

"Yeah," he responded. "This was all I knew when I was a boy, except for the infrequent trips my uncle would take me on to Anchorhead. When I was a little older and could handle a speeder or skyhopper on my own, my only thoughts were the next trip to see my friends and how I could escape from this prison. If I'd only known…"

Mara did not know what he meant by the last comment and sensed asking him about it would earn her nothing more than a stony silence. "Do you want to talk about it?" she surprised herself by asking. The Mara Jade from two days ago would not have cared about his, or anyone else's feelings.

Skywalker's eyes darted to hers in surprise and for a brief moment, the flicker of connection sprang into life, causing Mara to shudder – in that instant, it had been clear he had felt it too.

He seemed to gather himself with a shuddering breath and began to speak. They sat on an outcropping of rock which stood near the entrance to the dwelling and he began speaking, telling her of the events of his youth.

He spoke of his childhood, the early memories of his aunt and uncle, of playing in the house and the love between the three family members. This period of his life he only spoke of briefly before moving on to the stories of his youth, his time as a restless teenager, certain in his belief of his destiny for greater things than to be stuck for the rest of his life tending a small moisture farm on a barren planet in the far reaches of space. He related his experiences, flying abilities and racing skyhoppers with friends, helping around the farm, his aptitude for machinery – an ability for which his uncle was often extremely grateful – and his growing agitation as he had grown older and worried he would never be able see the stars, as he had always dreamed.

But underlying all of his stories was the comforting presence of his guardians. He told her of his uncle and aunt – his relationship with them and life with them as they had struggled against the hostile environment, their next big harvest always around the corner. She sensed that 'next season' had almost become a joke for the Jedi, as it had always been the next year which would bring them the harvest they had always strived for, the one which would make them wealthy.

His uncle, she sensed, had sought to protect his nephew, but whether he had known of Skywalker's Force sensitivity or had simply wished to keep him on Tatooine and away from the great struggles and conflicts of the galaxy, Mara could not say. But whatever his intentions, Mara suspected his insistence in Luke remaining on the farm and postponing his entrance into the academy had served to drive a wedge between the two. His aunt, it seemed, had served as a voice of calm reason between the sometimes acrimonious dealings between the two men.

And through the entire narrative, Mara was able to glimpse another side of the man she thought she had known through her files. Luke Skywalker was much more complex, more of an enigma than the simple rebel and killer the Emperor had made him out to be. Was this by the Emperor's design? Had he distorted the information deliberately in an attempt to deceive her, to steel her to carry out his orders without hesitation, or had he simply been misinformed as to Skywalker's true character?

Either option was equally distressing to the usually unflappable Mara.

And the irony of the situation did not escape Mara. If his uncle had let him go early, or if the stormtroopers had never shown up, Skywalker would likely have entered the academy and be fighting on the Emperor's side, rather than being one of his most implacable and wanted enemies.

As Mara listened to his narrative, he launched into another story of his teenage years, some amusing anecdote she would be hard pressed to recall later, his words taking on an almost dreamlike quality. Mara sat entranced by the sound and inflection of his voice, the way he gestured when he spoke, the excited, almost boyish enthusiasm in his expression and tone, and wondered at the man she was seeing in front of her. _This_ was the real Luke Skywalker – no matter what the Emperor or her files said. She had been allowed a glimpse into his soul, one which was clearly untainted by the crimes and motivations her master had laid at his door.

At length, his voice slowed and stopped, the rush of words spent, and they sat in companionable silence, each lost in their own thoughts, but comforted by the other's presence. The suns had made their way across the landscape of the planet and the corner in which they sat was now emerging into the direct light of the two stars.

Skywalker suddenly stood and motioned Mara to stand as well. "I have one more thing I need to do before we leave, Arica," he said, and motioning her away from the rock upon which she sat, ignited his lightsaber. He then proceeded to cut out a large piece of the rock, its shape vaguely similar to that of a pyramid, perhaps one meter wide and half again as long on its base, tapering up to a point on the top about a meter and a half tall at its apex. His strokes were careful and precise, yet quick, the work of a master swordsman.

He then raised his hand, and using the Force, levitated the large rock up the side of the pit's walls and over, out onto the floor of the desert beside the derelict homestead – causing Mara to wonder at the casual competence he displayed in the use of his gifts.

Motioning Mara to follow, he made his way back through the scarred building and out to where the slab sat waiting, its edges by now having mostly cooled from the heat of his lightsaber.

He once again used the Force and positioned the massive rock to the side of the building about ten meters away and re-igniting his lightsaber, began to carve some words into the side of stone.

"I buried their remains here," he spoke softly, as he continued the work of carving the words into the side of the stone. "I used whatever tools I could find which were not damaged in the attack."

Pausing, he glanced up at her, a slightly sheepish look on his face, before returning to his carving. "Perhaps it was foolhardy – the whole time I was working I kept looking over my shoulder, afraid the stormtroopers would return. But I knew I couldn't just leave them there. They were my only family, my _parents_ in every sense of the word, and they didn't deserve what the Empire did to them. This was the only way I had at the time to honor their memory."

And then it struck Mara – the whole time he had talked of his aunt and uncle, he had spoken of them as though they were his parents. But not one word of his real parents had crossed his lips. Whether he simply did not want to discuss them or did not know who they were, he had made no mention of them, causing Mara to wonder who they were. To produce such a powerful son as Skywalker obviously was, one of them at least was likely to have been very powerful, maybe even one of the Jedi.

This set off a new chain of thoughts, causing her to wonder how much her master knew of this young man, or how much Vader knew, for that matter. With a last name of Skywalker, a very distinctive name, it was likely they had known, or at least known of his parents, if indeed they had been Jedi. And the Emperor had wanted him dead – and subsequently changing his mind, had decided to wait until the young Jedi was brought before him, or 'give himself up' as her master had insisted he would. She felt as though she were looking down at a jigsaw on a table, yet half the pieces were missing.

Her musing came to an end as Skywalker stood and deactivated his lightsaber, his eyes fixed on the inscription he had carved into the face of the stone.

Owen and Beru Lars

May they forever rest in the embrace of the Force

Mara glanced up from the inscription to Skywalker's face and was immediately captivated by the tears she saw rolling down his face. His gaze was affixed on the stone and he was murmuring words through barely moving lips – she knew instinctively he was saying a final goodbye to the only parents he had ever known.

And suddenly, Mara felt something move within her – something she had never felt before in her entire life. It was wonderful and frightening at the same time and she found she could not put a name to it. It was compassion, affection and even a hint of pride all rolled into one – this was a man who had weathered the storm, had fought through everything life had to throw at him and had emerged the better for it. He was scarred, but intact. And for that alone, he would always command her respect.

Then he looked up, the sorrowful look completely replaced by one of intense concentration and concern. His hand moving to the deactivated lightsaber which hung from his belt, he motioned Mara toward the speeder.

"We've been here too long," he told her by way of explanation. "I'm sensing many beings approaching – Tusken Raiders, unless I miss my guess. We need to get out of here."

Grimly, Skywalker removed his lightsaber from his belt and stepped in front of her. "Stay behind me," he commanded, his tone of voice allowing no disagreement. "I will deflect any blaster fire and take any with Gaffi sticks; you cover me and try to pick off the ones with blasters."

Mara nodded and eased her holdout blaster out of its holster, taking up position behind and a little to the right of Skywalker, far enough away to be able to use her blaster without fear of hitting him, yet close enough for him to be able to cover her.

As they turned away and made their way around the side of the old building to where the speeder was parked, the sight of a party of the desert dwellers approaching them from the opposite direction halted them in their tracks.

Immediately and as one, the Sand People bellowed their rage and defiance and charged at the two humans, weapons bared.

_This is getting ugly, _Mara thought distractedly as she aimed at one of the Sand People and squeezed the trigger.


	7. Chapter 6

**A/N: **Well, here it is (finally). Not only was I busy the last few weeks, but this chapter simply did not cooperate. I hope everyone enjoys it and once again, thank you all for your kind comments.

**Chapter 6**

The look on Arica's face was intense, but focused, her grip on the tiny blaster she held in her hand bespoke a casual familiarity – she was comfortable with the weapon and had used it before.

Luke wondered again at the origins of his companion. He had confided in her, told her much of his time growing up on the planet, and although he had not told her everything, he was certain had given her plenty of insight into the details of his life. But to him, she was still an enigma, wrapped in the shadows of her own secrecy, seeming unwilling to talk in any great detail about herself.

But it was a question for another time – now the demands of the moment were begging to be met, the approaching creatures dealt with. Again, he would have to wait before his questions were answered.

Giving the grave of his only family one last look, Luke motioned to Arica and stepped away, concentration now intent on the task at hand. They made their way around the side of the house toward the waiting speeder and as they rounded the corner, they were met by a group of Tusken Raiders, perhaps a dozen in number, approaching from the opposite direction.

As a group, the creatures howled their rage and defiance, brandishing their gaffi sticks and charging toward the two humans in a wave of sandy robes and raised weapons.

Blaster fire erupted from behind as Luke leapt into the fray, his lightsaber igniting to cleave through the lead Tusken's gaffi stick and deeply into the creature wielding it. The attacker fell from his blade with a hoarse cry and Luke moved to the next of the attacking creatures.

What met his eyes astonished him as he heard the loud war cries of the Sand People turn to howls of fear and consternation. They backed away hurriedly, leaving two of their number dead on the sands – the one from his lightsaber, the other cut down by Arica's blaster. The attackers withdrew several meters and as a group broke into chatter, their arguments with each other seeming forceful, but their manner toward the two humans fearful and almost… respectful.

Luke had never seen anything like this from the normally ferocious Tuskens.

"Is this normal behavior for these things?"

Luke shook his head, his attention never leaving the party before them. "I've never seen Sand People act like this."

He waved his lightsaber experimentally, noting their cries as they backed even further away, their discussion intensifying. "They seem to be afraid of my lightsaber."

"Do tell," Arica's wry voice drifted toward him, causing him to smile involuntarily.

The discussion amongst the raiders abruptly ceased and one of the warriors disengaged hesitantly from the rest of the group and approached the two humans, his motions cautious and almost deferent. In his hands he held a gaffi stick, but instead of brandishing it as a weapon, the Tusken held it out in two hands, almost as if it were an offering. It approached until it was almost two meters away from Luke, before bowing its head. The creature carefully placed its gaffi stick on the ground in front of Luke and prostrated itself on the ground, where it lay motionless.

A quick look at the rest of the war party revealed nothing. The stood there and watched Luke with interest, until as if by some signal, they began moving away – retreating away from the Jedi swiftly, many fearful glances thrown back at the two humans as they withdrew.

Risking a quick glance back at Arica, Luke noted she had not relaxed her stance in the slightest – her feet were spread apart and anchored firmly, her blaster held out in front of her, ready for action in a moment's notice as she gazed at the retreating raiders. Her eyes met his briefly, her eyebrow raised in question.

Unable to account for the Sand Peoples' actions, Luke spread his arms out in bafflement. "I don't know. It's almost as if this one is a sacrifice, but why they would be that afraid of us, I don't know."

"So what do we do?"

Luke motioned toward the speeder, his lightsaber still pointed protectively at the prone Tusken. "Let's get out of here before they change their minds."

Nodding her agreement, Arica cautiously edged her way around the alien, her eyes never leaving his prostrated form, Luke keeping his lightsaber ignited, while watching the area for further danger. In the distance, he could see the clouds of dust being kicked up by the fleeing Sand People, their pace such that they were already a distant speck on the endless horizon of the planet's desert.

Within moments, the two humans were strapped into the speeder, the homestead falling back in the distance. Luke's last glimpse of the remaining Tusken was the creature staring around in apparent bewilderment, as his slayers retreated, leaving his life intact.

* * *

The return journey was largely a silent affair. To Mara's eyes, Skywalker was deep in thought and although his shields were of such strength that no hint of his thoughts or emotions penetrated them, the faintly puzzled look adorning his features told her all she needed to know. To be sure, the Tuskens' reaction to his emerald blade was a mystery, but Mara found her thoughts engaged in a far more pressing matter.

When she had first agreed to accompany him and his friends it had seemed like such a simple task – get Skywalker alone and kill him, then escape and report to her master. In fact, the morning's outing had presented a perfect opportunity. With Skywalker dead at the homestead, she would have been free to take the speeder back to her ship waiting in Anchorhead and leave the planet far behind. She doubted Solo and the others would ever even have found the body.

But the change in orders was much more difficult to accomplish. Somehow in the next half day she would have to get him to trust her, to get him to accept her as one of his circle… as one of his companions.

She had wracked her brain, but she could only think of one plausible way to induce him into allowing her to travel with them. She was certain they would be rejoining the Rebellion once they left Tatooine and since she was not supposed to know they were involved, there was no way for her to bring it up with them. And even if she could, a sudden declaration that she wanted to join the Rebels would be met with suspicion and hostility.

Only one option was possible, but it was one she was hesitant to take as she was certain her master would not approve. It was a quandary to be certain and one which was becoming more pressing by the moment – once they had arrived back at the hut she would be severely curtailed in her ability to converse alone with him, due to the presence of the rest of the party, and she may very well lose her chance to make any impression on him.

But of course there was his mention of leaving tomorrow when they had talked that morning – she had not missed his singular pronoun and wondered what it had meant. If he were planning to leave Tatooine alone, he did have his X-wing after all, it was possible she would be able to persuade him to take her along.

She glanced over at him, taking in the sight of his introspection, his knitted brows and sandy hair and the sunlight reflected off his face. Shuddering, she turned away from him, aware of what his presence was doing to her and the effect he had on her emotions. It would take all her strength and focus to remain impassive.

It was several more moments before she began to realize they were rapidly approaching their goal. Aware that there was no hole deep or dark enough for her to hide in should she fail in her mission, Mara focused on Skywalker and made a decision.

"Farmboy," she said, watching as his head snapped toward her, his features startled at her sudden words.

"Arica?"

"Please, can we stop for a moment? I would like to ask you something before we rejoin the others."

Skywalker's face gave nothing away – she could not tell whether he was surprised at her sudden request, but he immediately eased up on the throttle of the vehicle and they coasted to a stop, no more than a few kilometers from the hut.

When they had stopped, he turned his full attention on Mara, causing her heart to jump slightly at the sight of his impossibly blue eyes, which once again seemed to bore into her, ferreting out her darkest secrets and shining into her soul. She gathered herself, reminding herself he could not see through her shields.

"So, you all leave tomorrow, right?"

At his nod she continued. "Will you be leaving with the rest of the group?"

He seemed to consider his answer for several moments. "No. Our ultimate destination is the same, but I have a promise to keep to an old friend before I join the others."

As intrigued as she was by his statement, Mara could not allow herself to become sidetracked from her purpose. "So where are you going then?"

"I'm not certain you want to know," he replied carefully. "It would almost definitely be safer if you didn't."

"Look Farmboy, I think I'm smart enough to realize there's something going on here you haven't told me about. I'm not asking for details, but I've reached something of a crossroads here and I need to know certain things before I make a decision."

His expression grew puzzled. "I'm not certain I know what you mean."

Taking a deep breath, Mara forced herself to continue, aware the Emperor's displeasure would surely be greater if she was not allowed to accompany him. "You offered to teach me about the Force. Did you mean it?"

His eyes widened in surprise. "Arica, I wouldn't have offered if I hadn't meant it."

She nodded. "In that case I would like to take you up on your offer, but if you're leaving tomorrow, I will have to go with you."

He was silent for several moments while he considered this new development. It was all Mara could do to force herself to breathe normally and relax while he thought about her request.

"I must say," he answered at last, his face suffused with a wide grin, "you seem to have a habit of saying the unexpected."

"I wouldn't be interesting if I _always_ acted exactly as expected, now would I?" Mara responded with an arch look, causing Skywalker to chuckle lightly.

"No, I guess you wouldn't at that." His face once again lapsed into the serious expression. "I must admit I was not expecting you to want to go with us. I was more referring to the possibility of giving you a few pointers before we left than training you. I'm not certain I'm ready to take on a trainee…"

"You said you would…" Mara responded with what she thought was a hint of a pout in her voice.

"I was completely serious in my offer to assist you, Arica," Skywalker said hurriedly in response. "I've already warned you I am not a master, but as long as you don't expect any more than that, I'd be happy to pass on what I know. But before you make a decision, I feel I should warn you we are not heading to safety. I don't think you know what you are getting yourself into."

"Of course I don't," Mara responded somewhat peevishly. "How can I when you haven't told me anything?"

Skywalker's eyes bored into her, his expression was intense and demanding. Had Mara thought his attention was disturbing and unbearable before, she now realized with the full might of his gaze focused exclusively on her, what she had experienced before was nothing in comparison.

"Arica," he began, his expression serious, "you have to realize this is not something I can divulge lightly. There is simply too much at stake."

"Look, Farmboy," Mara responded, "I think I'm intelligent enough to know there is something important going on here, but I've spent my whole life hiding from my heritage and I'm tired of it. It's time I began to make my way in the galaxy and acknowledge my birthright."

"There's plenty I haven't told you yet," he said with a shake of his head. "You must understand that if you were to leave here with us, you will never be able to disappear into an anonymous life again. If you choose to go along with us, you will be tied to us forever – there will be no going back."

"I think I know that, Farmboy," Mara insisted. "You haven't exactly been forthcoming with information about yourselves – you've shown up here to face Jabba by yourselves, you've been careful not to give me any more information than you can, you've only given me first names… Shall I go on?"

"Obviously you've thought this through, but I'm not certain the tale is mine to tell."

"Look Farmboy," Mara responded, becoming increasingly impatient with his reticence, "we're alone out here, isolated from the rest of the galaxy. Even if you do tell me this deep, dark secret, what could I do with it? If you tell me what this is all about, I can decide whether I want to get involved and if I don't, then you just leave me here and be on your way. By the time I'm able to get back to civilization and pass the information on to someone else, assuming I knew who to pass it on to, you would be well away from here. What do you have to lose?"

The look on Skywalker's face was inscrutable, but the emotions leaking past his shields told her he was at least considering her request. Not for the first time, Mara wished she were able to apply some pressure with the Force to push his mind in the correct direction, but knowing his skill, which exceeded her own substantially, Mara refrained.

"All right then," he finally replied, causing an intense wave of relief to flood through Mara's body. He looked at her quizzically at this, but made no comment. "Arica, we are members of the Rebel Alliance against the Empire. Once we leave Tatooine, we will be rejoining the rebel fleet."

Mara made a show of considering this new development, while ultimately deciding it was in her best interests to appear as if she had already expected it.

"I thought it was something like that," she admitted. "I realize developing my abilities will put me in direct conflict with the Empire – being a Jedi is considered a crime after all – but I stand by what I said before. If you will allow me to go along, I would like to take you up on your offer."

Skywalker continued to scrutinize her for several moments before he turned away with a sigh. "All right then, I will talk to Han when we get back. They can take you with them and I will meet up with you when I have completed my errand."

Mara knew by now he was likely good for his word and if he said he would meet up with them later, there was no doubt in her mind he would show. But her master's commands were explicit – she was not to let him out of her sight and she intended to do exactly that.

"No, I didn't agree to this to go with them. I want to go where you go, so you can begin instructing me."

Skywalker glanced back at her, his face once again showing no hint of his emotions. "I only have an X-wing, Arica. It would be incredibly uncomfortable if we had to travel several days through hyperspace in a one-man snub fighter."

"I have a ship," she responded quietly. "It's a shuttle – not much more than a box with a hyperdrive, but it will get us to where we are going. You can leave the X-wing here."

"Leave my X-wing…?" he asked incredulously. "That's my ship, Arica! I can't leave her here and even if I did, I'd be in hot water with the Alliance Command – it's not like we have unlimited resources."

"Look Farmboy, there is no reason for me to go with your friends – I am in this to learn after all. Don't you see? Your friends obviously don't trust me and if I were to go with them, I would probably end up in a cell until you got back – not an appealing prospect."

"I think you underestimate them," he responded quietly, a thoughtful expression on his face. "Does your ship have enough space to carry my fighter?"

Mara shook her head. "I'm sorry, it isn't. If it were big enough I would gladly do it."

He stared at her suspiciously for several moments, before he turned back to the controls of the speeder and began accelerating once again toward the hut. It was several moments before he once again spoke.

"The Falcon has docking clamps – I should be able to get Han to take my fighter back for me."

Mara nodded her head in assent, immensely relieved at her success.

"But if we're going to do this, I have a condition."

Startled, Mara peered back at Skywalker, motioning him to continue.

"I will pilot your shuttle and will lock the navicomputer while we are en route to our destination, both the first one and then our rendezvous with the others."

Mara stared at him, indignant at his audacity. "No one pilots my ship, Farmboy. If you think you're just going to take over…"

"This is non-negotiable," Skywalker interrupted, cutting her off. "There is too much at stake here and I cannot jeopardize our destination. I'm sorry, Arica, but we've only been acquainted for the past day and I don't know you yet. I'm not willing to take any chances until I know you better."

She was not happy about it, but she could sense he was unfortunately determined and nothing would change his mind. On the one hand, she could understand his hesitation – she was, after all, a near stranger to him and she could hardly expect him to trust her so implicitly without knowing her.

"How do I know I can trust you?"

Skywalker glanced at her with a huge smile on his face, causing her heart to flutter most disconcertingly. "I can give you my word, but I suppose that doesn't count for much," he responded, his voice wry and ironic. "You can back out any time you want, Arica. But I told you I would help you and I take my promises very seriously. It's really up to you."

Knowing there was no alternative, Mara nodded her consent. "Fine, I will go along with you, under your terms."

* * *

"Luke, are you out of your mind?"

Luke just stood there, his hands clasped behind his back, his legs fixed shoulder width in a pose Leia recognized as a battle stance – one she had seen the young man use many times in the past. It was a particularly stubborn stance, one which she knew from experience would be accompanied by Luke's, in her opinion, unreasonably obstinate refusal to see sense.

"You leave at first light without telling anyone where you are going, taking that… _woman_ with you to who knows where, you tell her of our ties to the Alliance and now you inform us you will be leaving with her? On her own ship no less? What are you thinking?"

"Leia, I told you where we went this morning…" was his only reply.

"But why take her with you? You don't even know her. Do you have any idea how worried we were?"

"Leia, I can take care of myself."

His deflection of her questions served to infuriate Leia even further and the mulish stare on his face only exacerbated the matter. Leia turned to Han in desperation. "Tell him, Han!"

Han simply shook his head, an amused glint in his eye as he regarded the standoff. "You want _me_ to try and reason with him? He's just as stubborn as you are and I've never had any luck making you see sense – why do you think I'd succeed with him? The two of you are so much alike you could almost be siblings."

Leia glared at Han, feeling slightly betrayed at his words. "Luke, why do you have to leave us anyway? The Alliance fleet should be gathered by now – they don't have any time to wait around for us."

"I'm sorry Leia, but this cannot wait – I've put it off already."

"What is so important?"

Luke shifted, allowing his posture to relax slightly. "I'm going back to Dagobah – I promised Master Yoda I would return."

"Luke, you don't have time for this now," Leia said with some exasperation. "Can't you go back after?"

"Leia, I don't intend to actually finish my training right now. But I must return to let him know I'm all right and that I survived my encounter with Vader."

Leia sensed a certain tension in Luke's voice on the mention of the dark Lord, but ignored it for the time being.

"But what does Arica have to do with it?"

"She's asked me to train her."

Leia could not believe what she was hearing. "She wants you to train her?" she shrieked, frustrated with Luke's obstinacy. "Doesn't that seem a little convenient?"

Finally Luke's eyes began to show some fire as he regarded her coldly. "I think I know what I'm doing, Leia. Arica is Force sensitive and has spent her entire life hiding from the Empire. If I am ever to restore the Jedi order, I will have to seek out others I can train – she is the first I've ever met. If she's willing to be trained, I won't turn her away."

"And you believe her story? Luke, please tell me you've thought this out – you can't afford to be the same naïve young man I met three years ago."

"I'm not the same person – this proves it!" Luke responded, brandishing his mechanical hand, the hole in the back showing the intricate internal gears in sharp contrast to the blackened edges of the synth-skin. "This conversation is over, Leia, I do not wish to discuss it any further."

He turned his attention to where Han stood, watching the exchange in silence. "Han, I would like to attach my X-wing to the Falcon tonight so we can get an early start in the morning."

Han glanced uneasily at a still fuming Leia, before turning his attention back to the recalcitrant Jedi. "Sure Luke, whenever you're ready. It'll be a little tricky though – we don't have any heavy machinery to lift it with."

Luke smiled. "Leave that to me."

With that, he turned on his heel and left the hut without a further word.

"How could you agree with him?" Leia demanded, feeling betrayed that Han had not agreed with her more forcefully.

"Leia, in case you haven't noticed, Luke's not a child any longer. He's not the same kid I knew on Hoth."

"But surely you don't think he knows what he's doing."

Han shook his head. "I don't know, Leia, but he seems to have considered this carefully."

Leia snorted indelicately, knowing there was no need to enunciate further her opinion on the matter. It was obvious that Luke had made his decision and nothing was about to dissuade him. A part of Leia longed for the old days, when he had been much more willing to accept her advice.

"Leia, are you jealous?"

The question stunned her. She gazed back at Han incredulously, immediately taking in Han's shrewd expression – the one he wore when he considered himself clever or insightful. Leia longed to wipe it off his insufferably smug face.

"Why would you think that?" she demanded.

Han shrugged his shoulders while regarding her curiously. "You don't seem to like Arica…"

"That doesn't mean I'm jealous of her."

"No," Han admitted, his expression never changing. "But for years now you've been the most important person in the kid's life and now you have a rival. You're not behaving like a concerned friend… more like a jilted lover."

Leia had never heard anything so preposterous in her entire life. "Han Solo, where _do _you get these delusions? Luke has only known her for one day and now he's considering running off with her to who knows where… shouldn't I be concerned?"

"Look, sweetheart, I'm not suggesting you shouldn't be concerned. But Luke's a big boy now – he's all grown up. You can't browbeat him into doing what you want. He's changed, grown, and now he has that hokey religion the old man foisted off on him… All I'm saying is maybe you should consider for a change that he may have learned a thing or two and knows what he's doing."

Leia stared at him, confused over Han's behavior. Han had always discounted and ridiculed Luke's devotion to the Jedi ways, but here he was now tacitly admitting the existence of the Force and taking Luke's side in an argument she knew he would have fully supported her in before his capture.

"I can't believe it. The great skeptic himself acknowledging there may something to the 'hokey religion'?"

Han grinned. "Never thought you'd see the day, did you?"

When Leia could not find the words to respond, Han continued, "Look princess, I don't know nothing about no all-powerful Force, or Jedi, or anything like that. But I do know Luke did some pretty amazing things yesterday – things I ain't never seen before. All I'm saying is the kid's grown up and he can take care of himself. If he thinks Arica is worthy of our trust, then maybe we should give her the benefit of the doubt."

Seeing she was defeated, Leia threw up her hands in disgust. "Fine, it seems obvious he'll do whatever he wants anyway. Just don't expect me to trust her implicitly. Or stop worrying for that matter."

"I wouldn't expect you to," Han soothed, gathering the angry princess into his arms. "Just give him – and her – a chance. I suspect you may be surprised when it's all said and done."

* * *

Mara watched impassively as Skywalker's X-wing was secured to the side of the ancient freighter, her mind playing over and over the look in his eyes as he told her his plan for attaching the snub fighter to Solo's ship. She never would have believed it possible if she had not witnessed for herself the graceful rise of the fighter as he had lifted it with the help of the Force and brought it alongside the Falcon – a sentiment which she suspected was shared by the rest of the group, if their disbelieving and slightly awestruck faces were any indication. She had of course challenged him on what he had been about to attempt, but his only response had been an insufferable smirk and the slightly mysterious comment, "Size matters not."

She had never known what could truly be accomplished with the Force, a fact she had begun to consider somewhat sullenly as she pondered the Emperor and his insistence on only training her in what he felt she would need to know in her position as his pet assassin.

She was not happy about that in the slightest.

She had not missed the fireworks which had erupted when Skywalker had informed his friends of his change in plans – in fact she suspected half of Tatooine was privy to the princess's displeasure, such had been her vocal opposition to the arrangement.

If Organa only knew…

With the Emperor's new instructions, Skywalker could now find no more zealous and determined a protector, aware as she was of her master's displeasure if Skywalker should not make it to his appointment with the Sith Lord.

And she had certainly not missed the dark looks of reproach which Calrissian had directed at his friend upon their return. Indeed, she suspected Skywalker would hear from his friend before they left the following morning, such was the confusion which rolled off the man in waves.

Mara herself had been cool, but polite to the oily man upon their return, even though he had latched himself on to her as soon as they had pulled up in front of the hut – at least until she had had enough of him and told him to get lost. She knew men like Calrissian – knew what they wanted and how they viewed themselves. She had had to deal with his like in the past during her assignments. She knew it was now a matter of pride for the annoying man – whereas before she had been nothing more than a new conquest, now Skywalker's managing to abscond with her for the day was a personal insult to his ego.

She seriously doubted Calrissian was conceited enough to make a scene over so trivial a situation, but she was certain Skywalker would hear some subtle, underhanded digs from his friend at the very least.Calrissian was certainly not happy with her and had not been since she had told him in no uncertain terms to leave her alone. Maybe if she was lucky, he would say something to set Skywalker off and the Jedi would spit the annoying man on his lightsaber and rid her of his presence.

One could only hope.

* * *

With the starfighter secured to the side of the Falcon, Luke wiped the sweat from his brow and sat wearily on a small crate set to the side of the freighter. If he were honest with himself, lifting his X-wing up so it could be fastened to the side of the Falcon had been an exhausting effort, one which he would not like to repeat any time soon. He understood now what Master Yoda had said about size not mattering, but he still could not fathom how the master had managed to lift his ship out of the swamp without even breaking a sweat. Maybe it was one of those things one improved at with further practice.

_Or maybe it's some latent inability to truly believe,_ he thought morosely.

Unwilling to continue in that line of thought, Luke glanced around the area, which had become somewhat quieter, with Han having retreated into the hut, likely to continue to try to placate the princess, while Chewie had returned to the inside of the Falcon, no doubt intending to raid the Falcon's store of food. Luke shook his head with a grin at the thought – some things never changed.

The only ones of the party left outside the hut were Arica, who sat observing the scene from a small rock near the entrance to the hut and Lando stood inspecting the clamps holding the starfighter

Indeed, the way Lando had reacted was a source of great amusement for Luke. Luke was very aware of Lando's opinion of him. During their time trying to rescue Han, they had developed a real camaraderie and mutual friendship, but beneath all that, Luke knew Lando considered him to be an unsophisticated hick, with no real experience or social skills, no fashion sense and little manners; a sort of country cousin who needed to be taken under his wing and shown how to behave.

Of course, Luke's opinion of the former baron was a marked contrast. In his opinion the man was sometimes vain and conceited, with an overly favorable impression of his own charms, especially in regard to members of the opposite sex. But for all this, Luke knew Lando's heart was in the right place and considered him to be a valuable friend and companion. Arica's continual refusal to oblige Lando by giving into his attentions and flattery had almost certainly confused Lando, although he had undoubtedly been refused before, and her disappearance that morning in the company of one whom he obviously considered his rival had perplexed him in the extreme – after all, how could she possibly prefer the company of a plain, soft-spoken do-gooder, when she could have the suave, ladies' man?

And then Arica had told him to go fly a garbage scow.

Luke chuckled at the memory, intensely amused at the look on Lando's face as he walked away from the redhead, swearing under his breath. Luke was certain he was working himself up to commenting on the situation, but had not quite worked out what he wanted to say.

And Arica – there was another source of exasperation! She certainly did not welcome Lando's attentions, nor was she moved in any way by his charms, but if the waves of amusement rolling off her were any indication, she viewed the situation with a certain amount of glee. Luke was not happy with her attitude, although he could not in all conscience accuse her of leading Lando on – her disinterest had been too marked for that.

Putting the two firmly out of his mind for the moment, Luke directed his attention back toward the hut, in which he could still sense the anger and resentment flowing from his closest female companion. Leia had clearly not adjusted herself to the fact that he had changed – had grown in the past months. He was no longer the inexperienced youth she had met for the first time in the detention block of the Death Star – he had moved beyond that, developed into the Jedi he was now. And yet she continued to think of him as a child…

It was frustrating and maddening.

"So, Luke, buddy."

Luke started and peered at his friend, who had taken a seat on another crate.

"What can I do for you, Lando?" he asked.

"You certainly seem to have made an impression on the lovely Arica," Lando said, his hand waving toward the redhead, who was still sitting, watching them closely with an irritating smirk on her face. "I would never have thought you had it in you – get the girl alone and turn on the charm."

Amused at Lando's implication, Luke shook his head, a droll smile appearing on his face. "I think you and I both know that was not my intention. It was her idea to go along with me this morning, not mine.

Lando's brows knitted in momentary confusion, but he shook it off and turned back to Luke. "I'm sure you're much too modest. And now I hear you're leaving with her tomorrow and not returning to the fleet with the rest of us… Plenty of time to put the moves on her without any distractions."

Luke laughed. "Again, she's pretty much forced her way on this trip too – not my idea."

"Well, I'll tell you what, buddy, make sure you pay attention to her, or you may just find that I've stolen her from you when you get back."

With that, Lando rose and slapping Luke on the back, retreated into the Falcon.

Luke glanced over in Arica's direction, where she was regarding him with an enigmatic expression on her face. "I didn't catch all that, Farmboy, but don't get any ideas," she called

Luke grinned and standing, walked over to where she was sitting. "Don't worry, Arica, I haven't gone to Lando's charm school. I think you're safe from me."

Her expression did not change a whit, but she acknowledged him with a nod. "Just don't forget it."


	8. Chapter 7

**A/N:** Thanks everyone for the reviews and constant encouragement. Just a note that I have taken some fairly significant liberties with one of the minor characters in the story, the reason for which I assume will become clear as you read through the text.

**Chapter 7**

"So where do we go now?"

Skywalker glanced over at Mara, his lips pursed as he regarded her in silence. They were now approaching the outskirts of Anchorhead, a dismal, run-down little town on the southern edge of the Great Mesa Plateau.

"I assume you haven't been back to your ship in several days?"

When Mara nodded at him, he continued, "We will need supplies then."

"You know a place?"

Skywalker's grimace returned. "There are only a few – Anchorhead is one of the oldest settlements on Tatooine, but it's only really a minor settlement, which on Tatooine is saying something."

"Indeed," Mara murmured with a wry smile.

Skywalker's grimace turned to a brief smile before he became serious again. "The best place for supplies of any kind in this area is on our way to Anchorhead. Tosche Station is a local power distribution station and supply depot – I wasted many an hour there when I was young."

"You have friends there?" She suspected from the way he was acting he was not looking forward to meeting them again.

Skywalker grimaced. "If you can call them that. I was younger than most of them and the butt end of their jokes, more often than not. Of course that was four years ago - there's no telling if they are still there."

"We should probably stop and get what we can then," she acknowledged.

The immediate destination settled, Mara allowed her thoughts to slip to that morning, when they had set out from the hut and Skywalker's companions behind. They had left very early and she had been eager to leave the planet, its climate and the events of the previous days behind.

When they had left, the farewells exchanged by the small group of friends had intrigued and fascinated her - largely, she suspected, due to the fact that she had never been close enough to _anyone_ to actually consider them a 'friend'. Their different manner of expressing themselves was also a matter of interest, not to mention some amusement.Solo and the Wookiee had been warm and effusive in their farewells, many slaps on the back and promises to meet again soon had been exchanged, their camaraderie plain to see. Solo had even had a kind word to say to Mara - a brief, but cordial goodbye, coupled with an admonition, delivered with a smile and a wink, not to let Skywalker get into _too _much trouble. The princess had parted with words of caution for Skywalker, her eyes darting toward Mara, leaving no doubt as to what (or whom) she was cautioning against. To Mara she said nothing. Skywalker had accepted her words graciously, although she thought she could detect a slight annoyance in his own farewell to her. Calrissian had said very little, although his puzzled expression when he looked at her showed his confusion over his inability to make an impression on her, where his companion had apparently succeeded. For Mara, his perplexity was viewed with a certain satisfaction - the man had an ego the size of Tatooine's moons and she enjoyed the fact he had been taken down a notch.

The journey had been uneventful thus far, with each of the vehicle's occupants wrapped up in their own thoughts and feelings. Mara spent the journey trying to decide what her next move should be. As Tatooine was at least nominally controlled by the Empire, she considered briefly the possibility of handing Skywalker over to the first patrol she met, but two things stopped her. First, she was well aware of his abilities and was afraid of tipping her Sabacc hand too soon, knowing if he somehow evaded capture, not an impossibility considering his competence and ability with his lightsaber, it would destroy the fragile trust she had managed to engender in him and expose her for what she was. Second, the way her master had spoken, she suspected he had seen something through the Force - either that or he knew something to which she was not privy and expected events to play out in a specific manner. Any interference or attempt to influence events would be met with an extremely harsh punishment.

After much thought, she realized she was going around in circles and knowing it wasn't helping, resigned herself to letting events play themselves out, staying close to Skywalker and attempting to do as her master had commanded. There was nothing else she could do.

And she had certainly not forgotten her master's command to seduce Skywalker, given the chance, much as she wanted to. She simply had not been able thus far to behave in a manner necessary to induce such a seduction - the command was still too raw... too new for her to process in a rational manner. She also knew she would have to be extremely careful in how she comported herself as she knew - she was not certain how she knew; she just did - that Skywalker was not the type for casual affairs. For him to be drawn in into a more physical relationship with her there would have to be some measure of feelings on his part, beyond simple lust. A man like Calrissian would have simply accepted an offer for more physical intimacy, likely exulting in his conquest. Skywalker was not cut from the same cloth.

"There it is," Skywalker's voice interrupted her musings and she stared out over the landscape.

In the distance a group of buildings had begun to rise up from the desert floor. As they approached, Mara was able to get a closer view of the station - not that it was worth looking at. They were the same as any other buildings on the suns blasted world; squat and square in shape, walls fashioned from the same rock, bleached under the unyielding glare, dry and lacking in any aesthetically pleasing attributes in the slightest.

A quick glance in Skywalker's direction showed his expression to be grim - whatever awaited them at the station, it was clear he was not looking forward to it.

"I'll defer to you to determine what we need," he said, his eyes never leaving the buildings in front of them.

"And how do you propose we go about paying them?" Mara replied, thinking fast. "I told you Jabba had not gotten around to paying me yet."

"Leave that to me," was the reply.

Mara was not surprised and made no comment.

They pulled up to the edge of the station and Skywalker brought the speeder to a halt, while gazing at the scene, his features impassive yet intent. At length he jumped out of the speeder and motioning for Mara to follow, entered the closest building.

The interior was dim, tables scattered around the room, with a long counter, which looked to serve the dual purpose of a bar and purchasing counter, running the length of the far wall. The room was empty, not surprising as there had been no speeders parked in front of the building, and carried the strangely mixed odors of cheap liquor and mechanical grease.

Mara looked around in distaste. "So what's the deal with this place? I thought you said it was a supply depot."

"It is," Skywalker responded. "It's also a small cantina - a sort of gathering place for nearby farmers. They also do carry supplies for the surrounding farmsteads, but we should be able to purchase some rations and maybe a few small items, power packs and other devices which might be useful. If you're in serious need of restocking we will have to go to Mos Eisley before leaving Tatooine."

"I think we can manage," Mara murmured. "Seems like it's a little dead here."

Skywalker nodded absently, while moving toward the counter. From behind the counter a door opened and a dark-haired, blue-eyed woman in her early twenties entered the room, staring at the intruders suspiciously. The effect of her appearance on Skywalker's face was instantaneous; his expression grew completely blank, while the woman's response was to stare back at him incredulously.

She immediately reached back to the door and opening it, yelled into the gap, "Fixer, you better get out here!"

"Hello Camie," Skywalker stated, his voice low and emotionless.

Camie said nothing for a long moment; her eyes flitted back and forth between the two visitors. "Luke Skywalker," she said at last.

Mara could not decide whether she was happy to see him, or was simply so surprised as to render her speechless.

The door behind her swung open once again and a large, dark-haired man stepped into the room, his eyes immediately narrowing as he took in the sight of the visitors. "Look who crawled up out of the Sarlacc pit," he drawled, his voice thick with dislike. "I must admit, I never thought I'd see your ugly mug around here again, Wormie. Not after what you pulled."

"What I pulled?" Skywalker responded, his expression and manner indicating confusion.

"After your aunt and uncle's farmstead was found burned out and two fresh graves dug, some folks around here said you did it and ran."

"Come on Fixer," Camie said with a certain amount of disgust, "you know Luke didn't do it. Others said it was the Imps - they showed up at about the same time."

This was obviously an old argument, one which had not been revisited in some time, unless Mara missed her guess.

"Of course I didn't kill them," Skywalker responded, his voice colored with thinly veiled impatience. "And the name's Luke - I left Wormie behind when I knocked the dust of this hole off my boots four years ago."

"All right then, _Luke_," Fixer, responded, his use of Skywalker's name a sneer, "what do you want?"

"Supplies," Skywalker responded shortly. "Then we'll be on our way."

Fixer's lips lifted in a grimace of disgust. "And why should we sell supplies to a traitor?"

"We'll sell supplies to whoever wants them, Fixer - their credits are a good as anyone else's," Camie responded decisively. She turned her head toward Skywalker. "I assume you can pay."

Skywalker nodded in the affirmative. "Yes, Camie - we didn't come here expecting your charity. I assume Imperial Credits are now the norm out here?"

At Camie's nod, Mara stepped forward and began speaking with Camie in low voices, outlining what supplies they needed. The woman seemed slightly friendlier than before and ready to assist, asking questions and making suggestions, which Mara gratefully accepted. But throughout the conversation Mara kept her ears open, wondering at the barely veiled hostility which exuded from Skywalker's friend. Skywalker himself was quiet and composed, almost relaxed now that the shock of the first meeting had passed. His erstwhile friend, however, seethed with open hostility and aversion; Mara knew from his words and reaction to their presence there was something more to the man's attitude than a simple childhood rivalry.

"So, what have you been doing the last four years, _Wormie?_" Fixer finally spoke, an open challenge on his face.

"I'm not certain you want to know," Skywalker replied calmly. "In fact, it would be safer if you didn't."

Fixer snorted with distain. "So, you ended up on the wrong side of the law after all."

"I guess it depends on your perspective," Skywalker replied, his voice still calm and controlled. "I'm no friend of the Empire, if that's what you're referring to."

"I might have known. Never did think you'd have the backbone to stick with that academy of yours."

Skywalker turned blazing eyes on his 'friend'. "Well, if I'd ever gone to the academy, I would have 'stuck with it', Fixer. Unfortunately, I had a little bit of an eye-opener before I ever got the chance to go there. Having ones' prospective employers murder the only family you've ever known will do that to you. Just what have you got stuck in your craw?"

"You don't realize what it was like around here after you waltzed out of here," Fixer snarled, his finger jutting forward in Skywalker's direction for emphasis. "Stormtroopers taking over, Imperial investigators around every corner, asking all kinds of questions, people disappearing for days at a time. The ones that actually returned were the lucky ones. And do you want to know what they wanted?"

"Information," Skywalker responded, his eyes fixed on his friend. "I presume they were looking for me."

"You got that right, _Wormie_. They wanted to know what happened to the little pile of bantha poodoo who used to hang around looking for hand outs from his _friends_." His tone of voice left no doubt as to his opinion of the state of Skywalker's friendships. "I never thought you'd be so important, but we all got pulled in for questioning and it wasn't pleasant."

Skywalker's facial expression did not change, but she knew he was not unaffected by this news, for all he must have expected it. The destruction of the Death Star was no trivial matter and would not have been ignored. Once they found out his name and where he had grown up, Vader and the Emperor would have spared no resources in trying to discover anything they could about him.

When Skywalker still did not respond, Fixer continued, "So what did you do this time, Wormie? It must have been something big to have gotten so much attention from the Imps."

"I destroyed a massive space station," Skywalker finally replied, his voice low.

The room became silent as Fixer stared at his former friend, an incredulous expression fixed on his face. Camie's look was no less startled, but her attention on Skywalker was far more appraising and somewhat awed, in Mara's view.

"You? Little Wormie destroyed the Death Star all by himself?" Fixer's words were venomous and laced with skepticism and contempt.

"No, not by myself," Skywalker replied, his voice beginning to rise in annoyance as his reserve cracked. "But I was the one who fired the shot. It had just been used to destroy Alderaan and if it hadn't been stopped, more worlds would have met the same fate."

"Fixer," Camie interjected urgently, "you heard the rumors. I think he's telling the truth."

Fixer's lip curled in disgust. "So Wormie managed to make a name for himself after all, while leaving us to pick up the pieces. Good for you, Wormie."

"Look Fixer, I'm sorry about what happened. The Empire killed my aunt and uncle and would have killed me too if I had been there. I never meant for any of this to happen, but I can't change the past. Just sell us the supplies and we'll leave, or if you want, we'll just leave and not bother you any more."

A gleam entered Fixer's eyes as he regarded his guests, his visage taking on a predatory air. "Fine, you want supplies? We'll get them for you - like Camie says, your credits are as good as anyone else's. Come on Camie; let's get these two out of here before I lose what little respect I've got for this space slug."

Camie directed an unreadable glance back at Skywalker before following Fixer into the back of the shop, where almost immediately she could hear them arguing, their voices raised although she could not make out any words. Labeling them as unimportant for the moment, Mara turned her attention on Skywalker, noticing the pinched tightness around his eyes and the grimace of his mouth. He had obviously expected such a reception although she was certain he had not thought his former friend would be so venomous.

"Nice 'friends' you have there," she commented lightly, trying to ease his mood.

"I don't think they ever were my friends," he replied with a glance and a sigh. "I was always the outsider looking in. For some reason Fixer took a disliking to me and since he was the leader, the others followed suit."

Mara nodded, not really certain how to respond. "So, you are the Skywalker that destroyed the Death Star, are you?"

He looked pained, but answered gamely. "I am he - if you want a deposition, I'm afraid it will have to wait until we're in space. So now you know the whole sordid truth, are you regretting your decision to come along?"

"No," she answered bluntly, "I knew there was something about you when we met and that didn't stop me then, why should it now?"

Mara silently cursed her loose tongue as she realized she had let more slip than she had intended - what she had not even worked out in her own mind - but she was saved by the sight of Camie bustling through the door, a crate of their supplies clutched in her arms. The door swung shut behind her and as it did, she set the crate down on the counter and motioned Skywalker closer.

"Get this crate loaded on to your speeder while I get the rest of your supplies - we've got to get you out of here."

"What?" Skywalker asked, a sharp, penetrating look appearing on his face.

"Fixer is on with the local Imperial garrison about you. It won't be long before they're here." At Skywalker's astonished expression, she reached out and laid a hand on his arm. "Luke, you mustn't blame Fixer - it was a terrible time for us all and he's never been able to get over his resentment. And we have standing orders from the Imps to tell them if you showed up here again; if they ever found out we had seen you without letting them know..."

Skywalker turned a sympathetic eye on Camie. "I understand, Camie, we shouldn't have come."

"No, Luke," she replied with a quick shake of the head, "I'm glad you came back. I've always wondered what happened to you and I'm glad you've turned out to be such a fine man."

The look of incredulity on Skywalker's face was priceless, giving Mara another insight into his past - at one time she suspected he had been smitten with the young woman now facing them. For a brief moment, Mara felt a surge of jealousy well up within her, though she immediately forced it down. It wasn't as if she had any claim, or the desire to have any, on Skywalker after all.

"Oh Luke, don't look at me like that," she continued with a chuckle. "I always thought you were meant for something better than this dust ball; I'm glad you've found your path. I always held a certain affection for you."

If she had thought he was surprised before, Mara knew it had been nothing compared to the emotions she felt rolling off him now. His face grew heated and he looked away from Camie to gaze at the floor.

"You sure had a funny way of expressing it," he grumbled.

"And how would I ever have told you?" she queried, her voice gentle. "You know how jealous Fixer was and how he treated anyone I so much as glanced at. You've never been very good at hiding your emotions - your crush on me was obvious. If you think he treated you badly, just imagine what it would have been like if I had given any indication of returning your feelings. He always laughed at your infatuation and thought it a great joke, though sometimes I thought he wondered if a part of me didn't return your feelings..."

"Then I'm glad I came back too," Skywalker responded after a moment's pause. "I'm not ashamed of what I felt," at this he blushed and hung his head in an endearing manner, "but I always thought you despised me. I'm glad I know the truth now."

Camie said nothing in return, but her face was filled with compassion and affection. "I'm, sorry for what happened after I left, Camie," Skywalker continued. "I'm glad to see you both doing well. But, like you said, those troops could be here any moment now - we'd best be leaving."

He produced some credits, far more than the value of the goods, Mara suspected, and hefted the container, moving swiftly out to the waiting speeder. Mara, waited for Camie to reappear from the back of the shop, where she had left to retrieve their remaining supplies.

When the door swung open once again, Camie placed a container on the counter and reached back into the still open door to grab another. "Here are the rest of your supplies. Let's get you out of here."

Mara nodded and moved to pick up one of the crates, when she was stopped by a hand on her arm. She looked at the older woman, noting immediately the intense gaze of the other, colored by a certain something in her eyes. It held compassion, reassurance and a slight anxiousness which Mara could not place.

"You take good care of him, you hear?" It was not a request, more like an order - a directive from a concerned friend.

"You mistake our relationship," Mara responded coolly, pulling her arm from free from the other woman's grasp. "I have no claim on him."

Camie cocked her head to the side and regarded Mara as if she were dense. "Perhaps not now. But I've seen the way he looks at you and trust me; I've seen it before - directed at me. In fact, if the looks he gave me were half as intense as the ones he's been sending you, I may have had second thoughts."

Mara's mouth worked but no sound came out, stunned as she was by the other woman's assertions.

"Look, I may be stepping in where I'm not wanted, but trust me, Luke's interested - more than interested I'd say."

"Well, maybe I'm not!" Mara snapped back, finding her voice at last.

She expected an angry retort or even a loudly voiced protest in response, but was surprised when Camie simply burst out into a low chuckle. "Then you're a fool - much as I was."

"Oh, don't get me wrong," she continued, picking up a crate and moving around the side of the counter, "I'm happy and in love with Fixer - he's a good man under all his bluster and he loves me fiercely. I figure it's part of the reason he never liked Luke, because he knew Luke was the one person who could possibly rival him for my affections. Luke Skywalker is a special person. Trust me - if you let him go, you'll regret it for the rest of your life."

She allowed no further words to be spoken as she brushed past Mara with the crate gripped tightly in her hands. Her words about Fixer made sense, but somehow Mara knew seeing Luke had reopened feelings Camie had never allowed herself to feel before and somehow she knew Camie regretted not taking the opportunity with Skywalker when she had had the chance.

A part of Mara wondered if she could take the chance Camie had declined, whereas another part of her - a more rational part, she told herself - ridiculed herself for her overly romantic and impulsive feelings. After all, she had only known the man for two days!

And yet, she could not shake the feelings she tried to suppress and mock, nor could she contain the growing sense of dread over her master's orders. Could she continue on this path, knowing what awaited Skywalker in the Emperor's clutches?

Uncomfortable with the feelings which the other woman had engendered in her, Mara grabbed the final container forcefully, locking her emotions deep down within her - suppressed, but not forgotten. She knew she would have to deal with them at some point.

Outside, Skywalker had already stowed the first container in the storage compartment and was accepting the second from Camie's outstretched hands. Mara watched as he stowed it in the storage compartment and turned back to Camie, who stood there waiting. She reached out and placed a hand on his arm, murmuring something to him in a low voice. He blushed slightly and responded in an equally low voice, his eyes staring down into the eyes of the woman next to him.

Camie took a step forward and reaching up, brushing her lips against his cheek - from Mara's perspective, it looked like a farewell kiss. Mara stood there, stunned as her former jealousy surged up within her, an emotion she could not suppress, no matter how she tried.

Skywalker's eyes darted up to meet hers and he appeared stunned - he had obviously sensed her reaction.

Camie followed his eyes to meet Mara's and she nodded her head once toward her new acquaintance. "Bring that crate over here. You both need to get out of here immediately."

Skywalker turned anxious eyes toward his old friend. "Won't they blame you and Fixer if we get away?"

"I doubt it," Camie said with a brief shake of the head. "They will question us, but as long as we don't look like we've helped your escape, the fact that we reported your presence should go a long way toward protecting us."

Skywalker looked as if he wanted to refute her assertion, but Mara, sensing the truth of the other woman's words, decided to take charge. "She's right, Skywalker. The best thing we can do to protect them is to get out of here."

She handed the crate to him, which he grudgingly stored in the compartment, before closing it and indicating to Mara that she should get in the speeder. He turned to say goodbye to his friend when a voice behind them interrupted him.

"Leaving so soon, Wormie?"

Mara whirled and saw Fixer, standing outside the door to the station, a blaster held in his hand, which was pointed directly at Skywalker.

Camie reacted instantly. "Fixer, don't be stupid! We can't hand them over to the Imps - Luke is one of us."

"He stopped being one of us the day he left," Fixer responded with a slight shake of his head. "In fact, he was never one of us - he never fit in, always had his big dreams, his strange ways and crazy, messed up thoughts. He was always better than us in his own mind."

"Fixer," Skywalker said, his voice calm and persuasive, "you don't want to do this. The stakes are enormous - we must get away from here."

"You say the stakes are high?" he snapped with a snort. "I'll tell you just how high they are! The reward money for your capture is enough for us to get off this rock and start a new life!"

"I'm sorry, Fixer, but I can't let you do this," Skywalker responded.

His friend began to retort, when Skywalker gestured and the blaster flew out of Fixer's hand and landed with a thud at the Jedi's feet. Fixer and Camie stared at Skywalker with incredulity, obviously not believing what had just occurred.

"What are you?" Fixer breathed, his face showing a myriad of emotions.

Skywalker's answer was forever lost, as a squad of stormtroopers rounded the corner of one of the buildings and advanced, their weapons held threateningly at the party.

"You there!" the sergeant shouted. "Surrender now!"

In a flash of emerald green, Skywalker's blade was out and he moved to engage the stormtroopers. The soldiers responded by opening fire and the combined efforts of the six soldiers sent a hail of energy toward the charging Jedi. Skywalker never paused in his assault, meeting the bolts and deflecting them with cool and deadly precision and within moments, two of the stormtroopers were down, smoking holes opened up in their armor where their own blaster fire had been deflected back at them with lethal effect.

Mara glanced toward the couple who appeared stunned and more than a little awed at the transformation of their former friend - Camie's eyes showing an admiration, while Fixer's widened in consternation, not to mention fear. His eyes gleaming with desperation, Fixer tore his eyes away from the spectacle taking place and fastened them on his blaster, which lay forgotten on the ground.

"No you don't," Mara snarled, her voice menacing and implacable. She stooped and grasped the blaster in her hand, her other hand now cradling the familiar weight of her holdout blaster which she had unconsciously grabbed when the stormtroopers had appeared.

Looking back at the battle, she could see it was almost over; Skywalker, having dispatched three more of the stormtroopers, was now advancing on the last, deflecting the blaster fire directed at him by the panicking trooper. He knocked the blaster out of the trooper's hand, before raising his hand and sending the hapless soldier crashing into the wall of one of the buildings with bone crushing force, where he fell in a heap.

The light of his blade winked out and Skywalker turned on his heel and began to stalk back toward the waiting group. Mara, who had seen him in action before, regarded him dispassionately, while the faces of the other two were vastly different - open wonder on Camie's face to fear on the face of her husband. Skywalker's expression, however, held the first true hint of anger she had ever seen him display - he was furious.

"Are you happy now, Fixer?" he demanded. "You've forced me to kill those troops when we could have just left in peace..." His voice caught as he attempted valiantly to reign in his emotions.

"They were Imps, Wormie," Fixer growled in reply, his bravado overcoming his fear. "I thought you killed their kind for a living."

Skywalker stared back at his former friend, his chest heaving with the exertion of the battle and the feelings blazing in the depths of his sea blue eyes. "I only kill when necessary to defend myself and my _friends_, Fixer," he finally responded, his voice thick with strain. "Don't you understand? I already have more deaths on my hands than..."

Mara understood in a flash of insight; he was referring to the Death Star and the fact that his hand had steered the ship and fired the shot which had snuffed out the lives of hundreds of thousands of Imperial personnel aboard the space station.

In that instant, she knew that whatever her master's intentions when he had given her the information about Skywalker, the portrayal of him as a cold, heartless killer was absolutely false. All her doubts regarding the matter were swept away and she found herself wondering once again if the Emperor had known he was passing her erroneous information, or if he had been deceived by his informants.

"Luke, you need to get out of here." Camie was insistent, her manner urgent and concerned.

Mara watched as Skywalker pulled himself together and regarded his friend. "What about you and Fixer? You'll be in danger once another patrol gets out here and realizes what has happened."

This time it was Fixer who answered. "Actually, this will throw suspicion off of us," he said, his voice now tinged with reluctant acceptance. "When they realize you've taken out an entire patrol by yourself, they'll realize there's no way we could have held you."

"But..."

"Luke, you let us deal with them," Camie said decisively, her tone brooking no opposition.

Skywalker did not look happy and his features became obstinate. "Look, if you want to get off Tatooine, we can take you. I will help you as much as I can, assist you in getting a start on another world..."

"No Luke, our place is here. The best thing you can do for us is to continue what you are doing; go back to your Rebellion and bring down the Empire, Luke.

Skywalker appeared as thought he would like to argue the matter further, but Camie stepped forward and began ushering the two toward their waiting speeder, her manner firm, yet gentle. Mara realized Camie now expected she would never see her friend again, but despite that, she was determined they would get away before more Imperial troops arrived.

"There are only a few squads stationed in Anchorhead - they don't need much more to keep this town under control - but soon they'll be sending reinforcements from Bestine and Mos Eisley. Even you can't hold out against an entire army."

"No, I can't," Luke responded, his voice reluctantly resigned. "Please take care of yourself Camie - no heroics on my account."

Camie's face lit up with a beautiful smile and Mara understood instantly why Skywalker had been smitten with her as a young boy. "Don't worry about us. We've learned a thing or two about how to deal with them in the last four years - we'll be fine."

Skywalker nodded and focused his attention on the glowering Fixer, who stood watching them. "Take care of yourself, Fixer, and take care of Camie."

The man said nothing, merely nodding his head sourly, motioning them to leave.

As they got into the speeder, Skywalker leaned over and whispered something in Camie's ear, eliciting another smile from his friend, before he turned to the controls and guided the speeder away from the station.

For long moments they sped away, each wrapped up in their own thoughts, until Mara, curiosity getting the best of her, broke the silence. "What did you tell her as we were leaving?"

Skywalker favored her with the first grin since they had left that morning. "I told her next time I would not be such a stranger."

* * *

They arrived without further incident at the spaceport, and loading their crates of supplies onto the waiting ship, were soon blasting away from the planet - Mara hoped for good. There was certainly nothing on the planet she would regret leaving behind, nor would she miss the harsh environment and gritty sand which seemed to get into everything.

Leaving him to pilot the craft away from the binary system, Mara excused herself from the cockpit, still slightly put out that he would not allow her to know their destination, and indicated to her companion she would be making use of the ship's sonic fresher.

So began the two day journey, a voyage which began in confusion and uncertainty, and quickly degenerated into sullen resentment and open warfare between the two occupants. Nothing seemed to be above their ability to argue about, whether it was their sleeping arrangements - Skywalker offered to sleep on the small sofa in the main cabin, while she insisted, quite reasonably, that since there were two bunks, there was no reason why they could not sleep in the same room - to constant struggles over meals, fights over opposing views of just about any subject, to Skywalker's continuing and stubborn refusal to allow her to know anything of their destination.

No possible subject seemed safe and if Mara were honest with herself - something she was loathe to admit to herself, let alone him - she knew deep down it was largely her own fault. The feelings with which she had been assaulted the last several days had left her with a wish for nothing more than a little private space away from him and his constant presence in the Force - something extremely problematic on a ship the size of her shuttle. They unbalanced her badly, causing her to retaliate, after a fashion, by automatically taking the opposite side of any stance he took in any conversation. It was not long before almost all conversation between them ceased and their air between them was filled with a pregnant silence - a calm before the storm which would almost inevitably rise up when any subject, no matter how benign, was raised between them.

When he informed her of their purpose - that they were going to visit the Jedi master he had trained under - the information caused Mara a moment of panic, uncertain if she would be able to hide her true nature from a master of the Force. She consoled herself, thinking if she was able to hide certain things from her own master, she would be able to hide from a Jedi master as well. At least a Jedi would be much gentler if he suspected her of hiding something than the Emperor had ever been with her. However, Skywalker's refusal to divulge more than this simple piece of information quickly relegated this to a taboo subject as well.

It was not until Skywalker suggested they begin planning for her training that they were actually able to make a breakthrough of sorts.

Mara was not certain what she had expected from Skywalker's training - he had, after all, gone to great lengths to inform her of his status as a rank beginner himself and the fact he did not yet feel completely qualified to call himself a true Jedi, let alone pass on his knowledge. But to say she was surprised at how he actually went about passing on said knowledge would have been a massive understatement.

He began by producing a datapad which contained a document he said he had been working on since he had agreed to train her. He showed her the information he had painstakingly entered into the datapad and explained to her the various disciplines he had learned under the tutelage of his shadowy and nebulous Jedi master. They discussed at length the different techniques and applications of each discipline; these conversations often delved into the more esoteric and philosophical grounds of the Force.

As her master had always brushed off any discussion of the Force he did not feel appropriate, Mara found herself instantly fascinated with the abilities which had always been denied her. It was during these sessions when she finally began to loosen up and feel comfortable with him, her previous bout of pique completely forgotten, overwhelmed by the intense interest she had in the subject matter.

For the first time she felt at ease and was able to converse with all the enthusiasm she felt; to debate with him the uses and purpose of the Force, seemed the most natural thing in the galaxy. Forgotten was the need to belittle his opinions and automatically claim the opposite side of any debate.

He kept his thoughts of their interactions largely to himself, but Mara suspected he enjoyed their conversations and debates as much as she did. When questioned, he informed her his master had given him long lectures on the nature of the Force and his training had been done in such a hurry that debate or intelligent discussion had not generally been possible. She sensed he had taken the information gleaned from his master and had painstakingly considered every aspect, further developing his thoughts on his master's teachings, expanding where possible, but revising and growing his understanding wherever his master's words seemed inadequate or antiquated.

She was surprised to witness his sometimes cavalier treatment of his master's words - her own master would never have allowed such rank insubordination - but when she challenged him on it, he merely smiled. Part of his master's training, he informed her, was to look beyond what he was told and to attempt to come to a true understanding of the Force and his own place in the galaxy. As he was to reconstruct the new order of the Jedi, his master had purposely instructed him on his views of the Force and allowed Skywalker to take that instruction and form his own views. He was told that as long as he trusted in the Force and allowed it to guide him he would never be steered wrong. And after all, to some degree, the mistakes of the old Jedi order had led to its eventual downfall - if the new Jedi order were to stand, it was necessary for it to avoid the mistakes of the previous one.

At times, Mara was able to see in his face the awe and uncertainty of having been entrusted with such an enormous and momentous task. At other times, she could almost feel the crushing weight resting on his shoulders. In the face of this knowledge, it was difficult for her to remain unaffected.

Then he moved to his actual testing of her abilities, the results of which were painstakingly noted in his datapad. Some, like her general awareness of the Force - her ability to feel its currents and follow its promptings - were generally noted in a positive sense, whereas others - such as her almost nonexistent ability with telekinesis - drew a frown and many notes as to how they would work to improve her natural abilities.

But the most surprising event, in Mara's opinion, was Skywalker's ability to see his own shortcomings and instantly switch into the role of student, while accepting any superior knowledge she could impart with great enthusiasm and a willingness to learn. She had half expected him to be aloof and arrogant, instructing her as if his authority was absolute - and this regardless of his assurances to her regarding his suitability to teach. Nothing could have been further from the truth.

In hand-to-hand combat, she was generally his superior; her training from the Empire's finest fighters outstripped his own learning, although he was certainly not deficient in that respect. She momentarily feared she had made a major error in revealing the extent of her expertise in unarmed combat, recovering only with a quickly thought up excuse that her mother had drilled her extensively. Her reasoning was that she could only use her lightsaber in dire need as the mere possession of the weapon of the Jedi would bring the Empire down on their heads and she would need a way to defend herself in close quarters when using a blaster was not feasible. Whether Skywalker truly believed her explanation she could not tell - he was as infuriatingly difficult to read as ever - but whatever he believed, she was relieved when he chose not to challenge her on it.

She managed to surprise him again when she produced her own lightsaber. He was as curious of its workmanship as he was to its design and he questioned her on its construction and inner components, while surprised and fascinated by the purple beam which shot out of its emitter when she activated the blade.

Her lightsaber became the genesis of another discussion - a general dialogue on the construction of lightsabers. Although she was not as interested in this subject as he was, not having the mechanical aptitude or skill he possessed, Mara gamely told him what she could remember of the weapon's creation, secretly amused by his almost childlike enthusiasm for the subject. His eyes took on an awed expression when she told him her crystal was a natural ilum crystal from the Belgaroth system and he imparted to her the knowledge that he had been forced to forge his own crystal due to his inability to procure a natural one. Her estimation of him once again was raised a notch by this tidbit of intelligence.

Speaking of their lightsabers and construction naturally introduced them to a discussion of lightsaber fencing and all of its forms. Although she was familiar with the forms in general, her lack of practice was entirely due to her master's insistence that she function without her lightsaber and concentrate on her ability to remove a target through stealth, cunning and her training in all manner of weapons, combat and explosives. She suspected he was primarily motivated by a desire to protect her identity, knowing the intense public speculation which would ensue if stories of a lightsaber wielding assassin should ever come to light.

However, her own lack of practice, but general knowledge of the forms, was in direct contrast to Skywalker's undeniable skill with the blade, yet his virtual ignorance in the technical aspects of lightsaber wielding and the forms in general. His skill with the lightsaber was far superior to her own - indeed she seriously doubted she would ever become his equal - and the more startling was the fact that his aptitude and skill appeared to be completely natural and instinctual.

With this knowledge, she was once again forced to revise her opinion of him and she could not help her growing admiration for his skills, knowledge and not least of all, his person. Once he found out she possessed a working knowledge of the forms, his delight and excitement were almost endearing and she quickly found herself sharing his enthusiasm. It was difficult indeed to ignore his childlike excitement and remain unaffected by it.

* * *

The evening before they were due to arrive at their still unnamed destination Mara was beginning to grow a little restless once again. They were in the cargo hold of the ship and Skywalker was going through one of the forms she had begun teaching him, his face a mask of concentration as he moved through the various steps, his lightsaber a blur. She was impressed - more than impressed with his ability and the pace at which he was absorbing the information he had gleaned from their discussions.

They had spent most of the last two days conversing - or to be more accurate, quarreling for the first day - and she was beginning to feel the need for some more exercise. Her upbringing in the Emperor's tutelage had instilled in her an appreciation for physical activity and she found herself needing to move after the past days of talk and discussion.

"Skywalker, this is all very well, but I think I've grown tired of simply _talking_ about this. Why don't we spar for a while?"

Shutting down his lightsaber, Skywalker peered dubiously in her direction. "A bit of sparring might be a nice change, but do you think you're ready?"

Mara could not help the grin which formed on her face. "I can keep up with you any day of the week, Farmboy."

His answering grin was infectious but fleeting, quickly replaced again by a look of concern.

"Arica, are you sure of this? I thought your mother had not allowed you much practice in lightsaber combat."

"That's true," Mara allowed, "but I did receive _some_ instruction." And it was true - Vader had provided her with the basics, although under the orders of her master and clearly unhappy over having to instruct his master's young protégé. He had, however, given her excellent instruction as much as he had been allowed to, and she had found him to be a very good teacher, although a little strict and unyielding.

"Well, I suppose we could turn the intensity setting down on these things," he responded, his manner still somewhat hesitant.

"Fine, if that's what it will take to get you to spar," Mara shot back, a slight smile of anticipation belying her sharp words.

Skywalker nodded in assent and adjusting his blade accordingly, he took a few practice swings, eying her all the while as she engaged in her own preparations. She turned back to him, noticing he was ready, weight evenly distributed, with one foot set slightly before the other, his lightsaber held in front in the classic stance.

Mara lifted an eyebrow at him. "You seem pretty eager for someone who wasn't certain about this in the first place."

"I never said I wasn't eager - just cautious."

Not bothering with a response, Mara activated her lightsaber and mirrored his stance. "Just remember to be careful - I don't know how thick these walls are and this hold isn't very big."

"I would say the same to you," Skywalker responded. "With the lower intensity setting we should be safe."

They circled each other for several moments, neither willing to make the initial attack, a situation which Mara found very amusing.

"What's the matter, Skywalker?" she taunted, a hint of playfulness in her voice. "Afraid I'm going to hurt you?"

"'A Jedi uses the Force for knowledge and defense - never for attack.'"

It was obviously a quote he had picked up from somewhere. "Who told you that? Is that a mystical platitude from your nebulous Jedi master, whom you haven't told me a thing about yet?"

"From _a _Jedi master, yes, but not the one we're on our way to see."

Mara was intrigued, but let the intelligence slide for the time being. "Well, I didn't see much of that knowledge and defense stuff at Jabba's sail barge. Seemed like you did all the attacking and they did all the defending - or dying."

"True enough," Skywalker responded with a smirk. "But another old Jedi axiom states, 'When outnumbered, attack'."

"It would seem to me those two statements are mutually exclusive."

"One would think so at first glance, but then, maybe the Force prompts the outnumbered Jedi to attack, knowing the best defense _is_ a good attack."

Mara laughed out loud. "Sounds like sophistry to me. Well, all I can say is that it's no wonder the Jedi order went extinct if they stood around waiting for their opponent to attack, except when outnumbered."

"Maybe so," Skywalker conceded with a smile, "except that the old order never did truly become extinct, did it? I'm living proof of that fact."

Mara was forced to concede the point, but instead of responding further, she stepped forward and directed an overhand swing at him, which he neatly caught on his lightsaber with a horizontal parry, before forcing her blade to slide off his to the side and taking up his stance once again, a grin once again plastered on his face. "Of course, sometimes it is best to let your opponent attack first. That way you can gauge her strategy and style, not to mention allowing her to waste her energy in aggression, while you conserve yours for the decisive moments in the duel."

Once again ignoring his comments, although she could not find fault with them, Mara launched herself at him, attempting to drive him back with a series of swings, which he parried with no visible effort, all the while yielding nothing, yet moving himself away from her in various directions, forcing her to change her angles of attack.

It was soon very evident his experience and skill far exceeded her own, a verification of her earlier thoughts regarding their relative levels of skill. He never responded to her attacks, seemingly content with allowing her to attack him, yet never letting her close enough to allow her the opportunity to breach his defenses.

For the first time, Mara found herself able to let go and just allow her instincts to take over. Her sessions with Vader had always been somewhat forced - he instructed her in what she was to do and she performed it to the letter, aware of his displeasure if she should deviate from his directions for even an instant. Skywalker gave no such directions, allowing her to dictate her own actions and learn her own limitations. She had also had very little opportunity to press the attack with Vader, as the few times they had actually sparred, he had generally dictated the session by forcing her to defend herself, throwing everything at her he thought she could handle and allowing her no opportunity to counter attack.

They continued across the somewhat limited area of the cargo bay, lightsabers buzzing and clashing, Mara always pressing the attack, Skywalker always defending. Mara knew she had overextended herself several times and left Skywalker openings to counter attack, but he declined every opportunity, instead content to let her dictate their duel. He seemed to be studying her, gauging her abilities, once again showing his aptitude for instruction.

In an instant, all of that changed. Catching a violent attack on his lightsaber, he forced her back, followed up with an overhand blow, causing her to retreat a few steps and then moving forward to engage with a series of follow up strokes, designed more to test her ability to defend herself, she suspected, than with any serious attempt to end the duel.

"Now let's see if you can defend as well as you attack."

She was unable to respond as all her energies were now directed toward evading his blade, which almost penetrated her defenses several times.

They continued on in this manner for several moments, before Skywalker, she sensed, deciding it was time to end the dance, suddenly moved in with impossible speed and hooked her lightsaber out of her hands, sending it clattering to the deck several meters away. The move startled her and she stumbled, crashing into him.

He instantly dropped his lightsaber, keeping it from coming in contact with her body, allowing the safety to deactivate the blade before it hit the deck. Suddenly, his arms were around her waist, steadying her and helping her to regain her balance.

Mara's first instinct was to push him away and berate him for taking liberties, but the words died in her throat as she gazed up into his impossibly blue eyes, taking in for the first time the depths they held, the sensation of being in his arms, his strong, lean frame pressed into hers.

Time seemed to stand still as they stood in the middle of the cargo hold, each mesmerized by the other's presence. Mara could not have broken the spell had she had the inclination to do so.

Then with the greatest gentleness, he bent his head and kissed her full on the lips.

For the briefest of instants, Mara stiffened in shock, her first instinct being to push him away with all the force she cold muster. All this disappeared and without further thought she melted into the kiss, pleasure exploding in her body. He seemed to sense her initial surprise and began to pull back in consternation, but Mara, not willing to let the exquisite sensations escape, reached up and wrapping her arms around his neck, pulled his head down to hers, deepening the kiss. All thoughts of her master and her mission instantly flew out of her mind until nothing was left but him and the beautiful sensations she had never before experienced. There was nothing but the movement of his lips on hers, his breath as it eddied across her face, the sensation of his hands as they caressed her back and the feeling of belonging - the like of which she had never before experienced.

Eventually they separated, each gasping for air as they stared into the other's eyes. Slowly a blush crept up onto his face and Mara, consciously realizing at last what had happened between them, stepped out of his arms and hugged her own arms about her frame, trying desperately to process everything which had just occurred between them.

"Arica, I'm..."

She didn't allow him to finish. Not wanting to hear him apologize for the most amazing feelings she had ever been allowed to experience, she turned on her heel and walked out of the hold, never witnessing the look of anguish which appeared on his face.

In a daze, she walked out through the common room and into the bedroom, throwing herself on her bunk, her mind working over and over the events of the past several minutes.

* * *

She spent the night waiting for him to return to his bunk, aching for him to come to her and tell her the kiss they shared was not a mistake, but Skywalker never made his way into his own bunk that night. She could sense him on the edge of her perception, but he had his shields up as tightly as he could and she could not detect any emotion through them.

Sleep was a long time coming, for she could not get the images and sensations out of her mind, continually playing the whole sequence of events through her consciousness, over and over again. Try as she might, she could make no sense of what had happened. Surely she could not be falling for Skywalker now - her master would never allow it.

She knew that whatever else came of it, their relationship, such as it was, was forever changed, altered by an impulsive kiss.


	9. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

Luke Skywalker sat in the pilot's chair, watching the star lines as they streaked past the cockpit windows. They were moments away from their destination and Luke was looking forward to seeing Master Yoda once again.

He snorted lightly, thinking of the irony in such a sentiment - he could hardly have expected to become so attached to the irascible little Jedi upon their first meeting. Yoda had been so difficult, so adamant in Luke's unsuitability for Jedi training; Luke remembered vividly the trial it had been simply to elicit the desired agreement from the ancient Jedi, though Ben's timely visit had certainly worked to tips the scales in his direction. Now, Luke did not regret the experience in the slightest, although he did regret the impulsiveness which had led him to abandon his training in the ill-fated attempt to rescue his friends. He had lost much that day, the least of which had been his hand...

More by habit than anything else, Luke glanced down at his hand, peering through the hole in the back at the intricate mechanism which had been exposed by the blaster bolt on the sail barge. It was strange... in the past six months, his body had adapted, had accepted the hand as part of him. Even now, he could tell no difference between it and the original, other than a feeling of numbness where the hole was. It was in every way his hand - the fact that it was not the original was secondary... unimportant.

Still, it would not do to go down to the surface of Dagobah with the internal mechanism exposed to the elements. In such a hostile, wet and dirty environment, he would be risking further damage. He was no surgeon - he did not know if the hand needed to be replaced, or if a piece of synth-skin could be fashioned to replace the part that had been lost, but he knew it was unlikely he could have the repairs completed any time in the near future. That meant protecting it.

He pulled out a black glove which he had taken from his travel bag and pulled it on over his hand. The glove was leather and fit snugly over his hand, neatly covering the hole in the back. Satisfied with the result, Luke returned to his contemplation.

He was not certain of the welcome he would receive from his master. Yoda had not been pleased when he had left Dagobah behind in the middle of his training and while reason stated his master would be happy and relieved to see him back, a part of him remembered the difficulty he had had in convincing his master in the first place. What would Luke do if his master decided he would have nothing further to do with his recalcitrant student?

And what of his current situation? He knew full well he did not have the time to stay with Yoda and finish his training. The Alliance was prepared for a strike against the Empire's newest Death Star and all other considerations must wait until that threat had been dealt with. The Emperor would certainly not repeat the mistake in the construction of the second doomsday weapon which had been made on the first - this one would have no weaknesses, meaning it would have to be destroyed before its completion, while it was still vulnerable.

Would Yoda understand the need for him to leave again so soon after his arrival? Or would he see it as more evidence of Luke's unsuitability for becoming a Jedi?

Unfortunately Luke had no answers.

The door behind Luke abruptly slid open and Arica stepped into the cockpit. She surveyed the room, before crossing and sitting down next to him in the co-pilot's seat.

Luke attempted to give her a welcoming smile - it was not returned.

Sighing, Luke returned his gaze to the outside of the craft, aware it would now be impossible to avoid the thoughts of the one subject he had thus far been successful in keeping at bay.

"How long?"

"We'll be coming out of hyperspace in a few moments," Luke replied. He could tell she was in a foul mood - the question had been short and only barely civil and she exuded waves of displeasure and hurt. After the first day of hostilities, he had thought he had begun to break through her reticence, but the kiss had undone the progress he had made.

_What possessed me to kiss her?_ he berated himself angrily.

But deep down, he knew what had possessed him - it seemed he was falling for the beautiful, but sometimes temperamental redhead. Han would have laughed at the thought and told him women were _all_ temperamental, in that knowing, smarmy tone he could sometimes adopt. Sometimes it seemed to Luke the worldly Corellian had seen and done it all in the course of his travels across the galaxy.

The kiss had been so wonderful at first. He could tell Arica had initially been astonished at his audacious move - in fact, he had amazed himself - but then had seemed to respond with equal fervor to his own. And then it had all fallen apart. The picture of her pulling away from him caused him unfathomable pain; the way she had hugged her arms around her body, then turned away from him and rushed from the room - the rejection.

He had spent the entire night thinking about it, going over it again and again, reliving the sweetness of the kiss, the rightness of the feel of her in his arms and then the desolation of her rejection. Suspecting she would not want to see him again that night, he had avoided his bunk, instead attempting to find some rest on the old sofa in the common area, but sleep had been elusive and memories intrusive.

Still, if she was to stay with him, anything but a certainty if the events of the previous evening were any indication, he would not allow them to remain as they were. He would apologize and allow her to make the decision of whether or not to stay based on his sincerity.

He turned to address his companion before he completely lost his nerve. "Arica, about last night..."

His words died in his mouth as Arica turned toward him, her eyes blazing with anger. "For someone who claims he hasn't gone to Calrissian's charm school, you're certainly giving a good impression of exactly the opposite."

"Is that what you think?" Luke asked, all thoughts of apology forgotten in the face of her accusation.

"What am I supposed to think?" she snapped in response. "You take liberties without asking and then attempt an insincere apology after to assuage your guilt. Sounds like a remarkable Calrissian impression to me."

Luke could not believe his ears. That she could believe him capable of playing with her emotions in such a manner was appalling.

"That's not what it was, Arica."

"You sure could have fooled me. And anyway - it wasn't even a _good_ kiss." Her tone and manner were contemptuous... dismissive.

By now Luke was furious. "Well then, I guess I'm not the only one who can give a good impression," he responded with some venom. "Given the manner in which you responded, it seemed to me like it was a _very_ good kiss!"

She flushed in response to his statement, her eyes lowered to the deck, telling Luke all he needed to know. His anger at her drained as he felt the hurt, anger and confusion radiate out from her suddenly and uncharacteristically transparent shields. For the first time since the previous evening he had hope they would be able to work this out.

"Arica, we're both adults, can't we discuss this in a rational manner?"

For a moment she said nothing. When she finally spoke her voice was quiet, but her eyes never left the deck. "Fine. Speak."

Luke once again experienced a spasm of frustration, but calmed it immediately. He knew by now he would gain nothing by showing his anger with her. A calm, adult discussion was what was needed.

"You have accused me of toying with your emotions; nothing could be further from the truth. If anything, I'm guilty of impulsiveness - something most of my friends would claim is my most endearing fault. Maybe I should have warned you or gotten your permission first, but I would never toy with your feelings."

Her eyes lifted to his face immediately and she studied him, while seeming to consider his words. "You're not sorry for kissing me?"

"Should I be?" he asked bluntly.

She seemed surprised at his question and stared at him for several moments. Her shields were back up full strength and at times like this she was so difficult to read, he sometimes felt he was sinking in deep water. She had a way of mystifying him which gave him a definite sense of unease.

"I don't know," she finally responded.

Luke, however, suspected he had finally seen through her and understood that whatever it was she was angry about, it was not the kiss.

"Arica, I will apologize for surprising you and invading your personal space without permission. But I will not apologize for kissing you."

"Why?" she asked him, her voice quizzical and confused. He was unable to get any reading at all of her, as her shields were tighter than ever.

"I don't know, Arica. I guess because it felt right - no, more than right... It felt amazing. I enjoyed it and I suspect you did too. In fact, I wouldn't mind doing it again..."

She flushed once again and her gaze fell to the deck.

"What is so interesting about the deck?" Luke asked gently, amused at her reaction to his declaration.

She glanced back up at him with a slight smile. "You would?"

"Yes. But next time, I will wait until I have your permission. Now tell me... you obviously aren't angry because I kissed you. Why did you leave so suddenly last night?"

Arica seemed to consider his question as she stared back at him. "Because I thought you were going to apologize for kissing me."

Luke pondered her statement - if she had been afraid he was about to apologize for the kiss, then than meant...

"I was afraid you were going to tell me it was a mistake."

"And do you think it was a mistake?"

She gazed at him briefly before returning her gaze to the floor. The silence stretched out interminably between them, but Luke was determined to hear how she felt. He was attracted to her - incredibly so - but he was unwilling to attempt to move further with this relationship without some encouragement from her.

"I... I don't know," she managed at last. "I don't think it was a mistake... I... I hope it wasn't a mistake."

Luke was filled with relief. Her halting way of expressing herself told Luke he would need to take care in his future dealings with her. But for now, he could simply enjoy the moment and feel relief that she was not angry with him. He reached out and grasped her hand in his own.

"No Arica, I don't believe it was a mistake to kiss you - how could something that felt so right be a mistake? I was merely afraid I had offended you."

"I was not offended... just afraid. Remember I don't have a lot of experience in matters such as this."

"I'll keep that in mind," he responded wryly, as the proximity alert began to ring. "But now, I suppose we'll have to suspend this discussion for the time being. There's someone I'd like you to meet."

She glanced sidelong at him, but made no further comment. Luke eased them out of hyperspace and immediately began to pilot them down through the atmosphere of the planet which had appeared before them.

* * *

Mara continued to watch Skywalker out of the corner of her eye; her turmoil had abated somewhat, although her motives and wishes remained firmly beyond her ability to define.

After a sleepless night, Mara had decided to follow her master's instructions to the letter. He wanted her to stay close to Skywalker and seduce him? Fine - that is what she would do. And since he was obviously physically attracted to her, seducing him would be that much easier; all she need do was encourage him until the situation resolved itself in the usual manner.

Her determination had lasted until she entered the cockpit, then all the hurt and anguish of the previous night had washed over her again, leaving her angry and waspish, barely able to remain civil with him.

Arica watched him as he intently guided the ship down through the atmosphere, her emotions in a jumble. He was not sorry for kissing her. The thought ran over and over in her mind, while the part of her which remained the rational, cool assassin reminded her that this was even better than beginning a physical relationship. If he were growing emotionally attached to her, the mission just became all that much easier - she simply needed to encourage his affections, play up the role and make him dependent upon her. She could tease him, tempt him with what it could be, all the while binding him tighter to her. In fact, beginning a physical relationship under such circumstances would almost be counter-productive - she could keep a far greater hold on him by playing to his lust, while denying him the culmination of the physical act.

The other part of her, the part which seemed to have sprung into being since meeting him, warned her that as he was becoming attached to her, she was starting to become attached to him. It was an unsettling thought and one which frightened her.

Then her mind slipped back to the evening before and the feelings his kiss engendered and her face grew hot.

_But this is what I wanted, isn_'_t it?_

* * *

The landing was executed perfectly in the clearing where his X-wing had stood after Yoda had removed it from the swamp, with none of the drama or excitement of his previous visit. As he shut the engines down and prepared to exit the craft, Luke glanced over at his companion, noting the dubious look on her face as she peered out at the gloom of the swamp.

"Seems like a pretty strange place to find a Jedi master," she commented.

Luke grinned at her. "Well, with the Empire's laws against Jedi, he could hardly stay in the swankiest hotel on Coruscant now, could he?"

The comment brought a slight smile to Arica's face. "No, I suppose he couldn't at that. So are you going to tell me about this master of yours, or do I have to wait until I meet him?"

Imagining what her reaction to the aged master would be, Luke shook his head. "Sorry, Arica, but I'm rather interested in your reaction to him. I think I'll let you meet him without any preconceived ideas getting in your way."

Her face tightened slightly, but Arica made no further comment, merely following as he exited the craft.

Dagobah was exactly the same as he remembered it - sodden, dirty and without any redeeming qualities. Having been on Tatooine for as long as he had, with its dry, dusty heat, he immediately felt the difference in the level of humidity, which was already uncomfortable.

Luckily, Yoda's hut was not far from the landing site. He stepped from the gangway of the shuttle and motioned for Arica to follow, noticing for the first time she had her lightsaber strapped to her belt where it bumped against her leg as she walked.

Noticing his glance, she regarded him impassively. "If I'm training to be a Jedi, I should look the part, don't you think?"

Luke said nothing in response. He simply smiled at her and reached out to take her hand, while guiding her through the swamp. He was surprised how quickly his memory of the environment returned. He knew every the innocuous looking place in which one would rapidly sink from sight and never appear again and the safe and dry areas which would lead them on the quickest path to the master. It was only moments before they were approaching the hut.

There, seated on top of a log outside his hut, sat Yoda, regarding them curiously as they approached, but making no attempt to greet them.

"Master Yoda," Luke began, immediately feeling tongue tied and hesitant in the presence of the master. He had not forgotten the circumstances of their parting. "As promised, I have returned."

"So you have," was the reply. "And brought someone with you, you have. Most intriguing, this is."

Yoda's eyes moved to Arica, his gaze frank and appraising and out of the corner of his eye, Luke saw Arica return the look with some amusement.

"So _this_ is your Jedi master?" she asked, her voice light and ironic.

"Need to take that tone with me, you do not," Yoda sniffed disdainfully. "Judge you by my size or appearance do you? Surprising then it is not, that come with him," Yoda jerked his cane in Luke's direction, "you do."

Arica stared incredulously back at master Yoda. Luke, feeling a need to control the situation before the two clashed, intervened.

"Master Yoda, this is Arica. She has asked to accompany me in order to be trained."

Yoda's eyes left his companion and once again focused on Luke, who felt like a schoolboy once again, caught in some prank by a strict and unyielding teacher.

"So great a master you have become, you think, that now train another, you can?"

Luke felt his cheeks burn at the censure in Yoda's voice. "No Master. I am well aware of my own abilities as well as my failures. I have told her I will pass on what I can of my training, but I was hoping you could handle her training while I am away. I must return to the Alliance soon."

Luke felt rather than saw Arica's eyes blazing into him, but he ignored it, knowing this was for the best. Yoda could teach Arica far better than he himself could ever hope to. Neither of his companions said anything for a long moment. Arica, he could tell, was seething, while Yoda seemed content to scrutinize the two humans, chuckling under his breath at something only he found amusing.

"Much anger I sense in you, Arica. Need that, you do not. Only looking out for your best interests, young Skywalker was."

"Maybe he could have asked for my opinion first," she grumbled.

Yoda chuckled again, but this time his laugh turned into an angry cough which wracked his small frame before he was able to control it. Luke was dismayed, never having seen his master in such a state before.

"Come, inside we must go, much to talk about we have."

He shifted his position and hobbling away from the two humans, he trudged away into the hut, leaning heavily on his stick the entire way. Luke exchanged a glance with Arica, noting that she had not missed the master's condition any more than he had. He was struck forcibly by the change in his master - gone was the old, but energetic and powerful creature and in his place was this old and sickly, frail creature, who looked every year of his age.

Inside the hut was much as Luke remembered it - small and cramped, yet dry and cozy. With a third person, it seemed even smaller than before. Yoda puttered around for a few moments and then turned and faced them.

"That face you make, look I so bad to young eyes?"

"No, Master... of course not," Luke hurried to assure him. Something was not right here.

"I do, yes, I do!" Yoda cackled. "Sick I've become. Yes. Old and weak." He seemed to take delight in such morose statements, much to Luke's chagrin.

Yoda straightened and jabbed his cane at Luke for emphasis. "When nine hundred years old you reach, look as good you will not."

Luke smiled in spite of himself, amused at the audacity of the statement. "No master, I suppose I won't at that."

Yoda peered at him, looking for some sense of irony, Luke suspected. Finding none, he painfully made his way to his small bed, lying down and pulling the covers over his frail body with Luke's assistance.

"Soon will I rest. Yes, forever sleep. Earned it, I have."

Luke felt the first fluttering of panic erupt in his chest. "But Master Yoda, you can't die - I won't let you."

Again Yoda chuckled, his voice a wheezing cough which was becoming worse by the moment. "Trained well, and strong with the Force are you - but not that strong. Upon the last of the old Jedi, twilight now reigns and soon night must fall. That is the way of things... the way of the Force. And now from the first of the new Jedi, the light must now emerge. In your hands now, the destiny of the Jedi and the galaxy is."

Luke was desperate. "But I need your help! I haven't completed my training yet."

"No more training do you require. Already you know that which you need."

Luke was stunned. "Then I am a Jedi?" Yet even as he said it he felt a premonition, a sense of something yet to come... something unfulfilled. There was something still which must be done before he could call himself a Jedi.

All this, Yoda watched impassively. "Yes. Do you credit your insight does. One thing remains. Vader... Vader you must confront. Only then a full Jedi will you be. And confront him you will, sooner or later."

The time had come to ask the question which had been on his mind all these months, yet Luke hesitated, glancing over at Arica, who was watching the scene with wide eyes.

Yoda seemed to sense his hesitance. "Young Arica, this discussion, I fear, is not for your ears. Between young Skywalker and me it must stay. Wait outside you must. When finished talking with young Luke I am, other things to say to you, I have."

Arica looked as though she wanted to argue the point, but she relented and slipped from the hut.

Alone with the master, Luke searched for a way to broach the question which had been foremost on his mind for the past six months. He was certain he already knew the answer, but the question must be asked. Yoda's eyes were on him, his manner curious and knowing - Luke knew the master must suspect the reason for his hesitancy and immediately resolved to ask without further delay.

"Master Yoda... is Darth Vader my father?"

Yoda was silent for several moments. "Told you, did he?" Yoda finally asked.

"That's what he told me, yes. At first I thought it must be a falsehood designed to put me off balance, but I realized soon after he had no reason to do so. I was at his mercy and all he needed to do was to finish me off, or capture me for whatever purpose he had in mind. He must have been telling the truth."

"Your father he is," Yoda finally answered. "Most unfortunate this is."

Luke was incredulous. "Unfortunate I know the truth?"

"No! Unfortunate that you rushed to face him - that incomplete your training was... that not ready for the burden were you. Told you everything I would have, when ready you were." The ancient Jedi master paused and snorted, which again turned into a hacking cough. At length he gathered himself and continued, "Obi-Wan would have told you long ago, had I let him... now a great weakness you carry. Master it you must, if to succeed you are."

"I don't know what to do," Luke responded dejectedly. "How can I face my father again? How can I kill him?"

"Face him you must and you will. But to other matters we must move and time is short. Soon another old friend will you see and of him, more of your father you may ask."

Luke was intrigued by his comment about the visit of another friend, but knowing Yoda as he did, he remained silent on the subject. He was still uncertain how he could ever face his father again, but further discussion on the subject would not, Luke was certain, yield the answers he craved, if any such existed. "Other matters?" Luke echoed at last. "What else do we have to discuss?"

"Your companion. Tell me about her you must."

Luke was perplexed, but gamely agreed. Starting from the beginning of their acquaintance, Luke related the story of his meeting with Arica in the throne room of the Hutt's palace, the confrontation on the sail barge and her contribution to the battle, the subsequent retreat to Ben's hut, the visit to the Lars moisture farm and their experiences in Anchorhead. Of the voyage to Dagobah he was deliberately vague and completely left out any mention of what had happened between them the previous night. But as the tale progressed, he could see a look of sly amusement appear on the face of the wizened old Jedi.

"Hmm... a strange tale this is," Yoda commented when Luke had finished. "Brought you together with young Arica, the Force has. I wonder; told me all have you?"

The comment was more of a statement than a question, Luke knew, but he was not about to tell his master of his growing attraction to the inscrutable redhead - some things still remained his own.

When he did not respond, Yoda snorted to himself. "Yes, told me all you have not. Developed feelings for Arica you have. And in so short an acquaintance, most interesting this is."

"How could my feelings be of any importance?" Luke asked with some exasperation.

Yoda regarded him as if he were the densest student he had ever had the misfortune to be stuck with. "Everything. Not by chance did you happen to meet young Arica. A guiding hand I sense in this business, although see more clearly I cannot. The will of the Force it may have been, for you two to have been drawn together. More to say on this subject, I cannot."

Then Yoda glanced slyly at Luke before continuing. "Perhaps, a good time this is not, to inform you of the Jedi rule against attachments."

Luke stared at the Jedi master incredulously - was his master seriously suggesting what he thought? "Are you saying Jedi are not to have relationships? Not allowed to marry or have families?"

"A rule of the old Jedi this was."

Scarcely able to believe his ears, Luke stared at his master, completely dumbfounded at the revelation. He had given up so much already, had sacrificed and was willing to sacrifice even further for his family's debt to the galaxy, his father's debt... Was he required to continue to give up even more? Forego the hope of ultimately having the same relationship with a woman his closest friend now enjoyed? The anger began to build in Luke's mind as he stared at his master in consternation.

"Hmph," Yoda grunted sourly. "Your anger, you must control, if stay on the correct path you will."

With an effort, Luke forced his feelings of anger deep down within him and willed himself to be calm. "But Master, I have fought and struggled for my heritage, for my father's debt, because it was the right thing to do... But I don't thing I want to remain alone for the rest of my life."

"Remember our discussions, do you not?" Yoda responded with some exasperation. "Told you I did, that the rebuilding of the Jedi order, your responsibility would be. For this reason, told you little of the old Jedi I have. Your own judgment and the guidance of the Force you must use, when setting up the new order you must. The Jedi prohibition on relationships this includes."

Luke was silent while he digested this little piece of information. It was obvious Yoda had been amused at his attraction to Arica and had been equally curious as to what his response would be. Obviously, Luke was not yet as much in control of his emotions as he wished to be.

"Why were relationships forbidden, Master?"

"Thought, it was that the way to the dark side, emotions were. Taught the Jedi were that to control and suppress their emotions, the way of the light was. To be a Jedi, give up all and dedicated oneself to the task, one must be. Thought to be a life one could not share with a companion, it was. Perhaps in error this policy was."

"Master, I don't think I could suppress my emotions even if I tried."

The wry smile once again appeared on Yoda's face. "Noticed this I had. However, control your emotions you must. Negative emotions, such as anger and hate, can lead down the path of the dark side and avoid that fate at all costs you must."

"I understand, Master. But what of Arica?"

"Tell you more of her I cannot, for her origins I know not. Possible her story of a mother who was a Jedi is, but who her mother was I cannot say. However, tell you this I can - clouded her future is and a choice she must make and soon. Help her you must to make the correct choice, or dark and dismal the future may become."

"I'm sorry Master, but that's very cryptic."

Yoda chuckled. "Always clear the Force is not and know this by now you should. Was it not you who, seeing a vision, without completing your training, left to rescue your friends? And to help them were you able?"

Luke bowed his head, knowing the master was correct.

"Too hard on yourself you must not be, for make mistakes, all beings do. Now learn from them and shoulder the burden you must. Teach her, learn from her and guide her as well as you can. Already know you, that much depends upon you. Remove this burden from you I cannot. Your destiny this is."

Luke knew his master would tell him more of the young woman if he could, so he did not question his master's wisdom. The thought of going on by himself without Yoda filled him with dread, but he had always known this day would come. Yoda was a member of the old order, while he would become the first of the new. The responsibility had always been his.

"I understand, Master. Is there anything else you can tell me?"

"Two things more I would let you know. First, tell young Arica of your heritage you must."

Luke regarded his master in shock. "Tell Arica about my father? Why would I want to do something like that?"

"The reason, I know not. The Force tells me that necessary it is for her to know. You must learn young one, the will of the Force is never to be questioned, only to be obeyed. In you exists the potential to be everything your father was not. If hide from this destiny you do, dire the consequences will be. A secret this business you will not be able to keep forever - eventually come out it will. Do not be afraid of your father's destiny - before sided with the Emperor did he, a great and compassionate Jedi he was. Be as he should have been."

Greatly relieved by his master's words, Luke nodded his head. He had never considered the situation in such a matter and the conflict and ambiguous feelings he had felt in his father now made sense for the first time, giving Luke the first semblance of an idea. Whatever the Emperor had done to convince his father to betray the Jedi, he was certain all the light had not been extinguished. There may yet be a way to bring him back...

"I understand, Master. I will not fail."

Yoda nodded in approval. "Good to hear you say that it is - now fear for you a little less I do. Now, the second thing I must tell you is, before you leave this planet, into the tree young Arica must go."

Blanching at the thought of the tree and his failure all those months ago, Luke swallowed the questions rolling through his mind, knowing his master would not have said anything if his prompting had not been important. "She is to be tested too?"

"Understand that face the dark side of themselves, all must - Arica as did you. True this was even among the old Jedi." Yoda sighed and his eyes closed in remembered pain. "Too secure were we - too complacent. Disappeared for many generations the Sith had. See the danger we did not. Even when we knew the Sith had returned, to their true nature blind we were. With the new Jedi order, this must never happen. Ever vigilant must you be."

"But Master, I had been training for some time before I went into the tree. Isn't it a little soon for this?"

"Help it, I cannot. Time you do not have and things to see young Arica has in the tree."

Luke did not like it, but he knew his master would not insist unless the need was great. "I understand, Master. I will make certain Arica goes into the tree." Luke paused for a long moment before continuing hesitantly, "Master Yoda, I know of my father now... can you tell me anything of my mother? Did you know her?"

"Know her I did. Strong willed and decisive she was. Padmé Amidala of Naboo was her name - first a queen, then a senator. More than this I cannot tell you, for time is short."

"I understand, Master," Luke replied gratefully. "At least with a name and a location, I can look up further information about her. Thank you."

"Proud of you she would be. But speak of this more I cannot. Quickly my strength ebbs and talk with your companion I must. Please, tell her I wish to see her. Call you back in when we are finished. But the things I have told you, remember you must."

* * *

Mara paced outside the old Jedi's hut, her mind a mass of roiling emotions and fears. Why did the master want to talk to her and in private? If he suspected her of being the Emperor's agent, why not simply tell Skywalker? The two of them could surely deal with her. And what were they talking about in there? The way they talked about Vader just before she left, it was almost as though there was some dark secret about the Sith Lord which they did not want her to know about. But what it could be, she could not fathom.

She stopped and glanced around, willing herself to calm. The Jedi master would undoubtedly be able to sense her fear if she did not reel in her emotions and she was well aware of the price to be paid for failure. By now she was convinced they would not kill her out of hand - no matter what her master had to say on the subject, Skywalker was not the brutal killer he had been made out to be. But even if they did not execute her out of hand, she had information which would certainly be of use against her master. Surely they were ruthless enough to force her to talk if they suspected her of subterfuge.

Sighing, Mara sat down on the bench and ran her fingers through her hair in frustration. The worst part of the situation was the waiting, which allowed her mind to wander in many different ways, torturing her with thoughts of the schemes and plans they could be hatching, the ways the master would try to trap her in her 'interview' with him.

And if that was not bad enough, trying to think of _anything_ else inevitably led to the previous evening and how good it had felt to be in Skywalker's arms, returning his kiss.

This caused her thoughts to continue down another path - one she would have denied if she could. Given her continually strengthening and increasingly undeniable attachment she was forming for him, could she hand him over to the Emperor? Could she allow her master to go through with whatever scheme he had hatched? Whatever her master had in mind, it would not be pleasant for the young Jedi she was certain. How could she possibly avoid it? And how could she even be thinking such things in the first place?

"Arica?"

Startled, Mara surged to her feet, her hand going to her belt, before realizing it was only Skywalker. He regarded her with some amusement as she fought to bring her emotions under control.

"Master Yoda would like to speak to you," he said.

Mara frowned, still unsure about this. "What does he want?"

"I don't know," Skywalker responded with a shrug. "He wouldn't tell me anything."

That reassured Mara to a certain extent, but she was still uneasy about facing the Jedi Master by herself.

All of this Skywalker noted and he raised his hand, squeezing her shoulder in a comforting gesture. "Don't worry, Arica, Yoda might bark a little, but he doesn't bite."

Aware of her continuing unease, but grateful for Skywalker's attempt to reassure her, Mara nodded and allowed her face to display a brief smile, before taking a deep breath and entering the hut.

"Come closer, for many things to discuss have we and time is short.

Mara made her way to the old Jedi's bed and sat down beside it. He glanced at her, a piercing, intense stare which made Skywalker's uncomfortable looks pale to mere glances by comparison.

"Very strange story have you," he began without preamble. "Trained generations of Jedi have I - knew your mother I may have. Her name, can you tell me?"

Mara was ready for this question. "She went by the name Cetia, Master, but I know it was an assumed name. She never told me what her real name was - I assume because it would be safer if I didn't know."

The master regarded her in silence for several moments, an uncomfortable silence in which she could not determine whether he had believed her story, or was contemplating the best way for Skywalker to take her into custody.

"I sense that told me all you have not," Yoda finally responded. "Seems that to secrecy you cling. I wonder why, if nothing to hide you have, confide in us you will not."

The conversation was moving dangerously close to forbidden territory and Mara responded in the only way she could think of - with bluster.

"If you don't trust me," she snarled in response, rising to her feet, "why don't I leave you Jedi to pontificate over the nature of the Force?"

"Sit down!"

Startled by the power of his command, Mara found herself instantly obeying. She had only ever heard one other speak with such power and authority.

Yoda eyed her suspiciously for a moment before closing his eyes wearily. He looked old and tired to her eyes and she knew she was gazing at the last great Master of the old Jedi order, one who must be looked up to with respect.

He was also dying.

"Intriguing you are," he said, opening his eyes once again to study her. "Sense about you a darkness I cannot penetrate. Touched are you by this darkness, yet in you it is not. Swirl around you this darkness does."

Mara watched him as he spoke - his eyes were mere slits as he considered her. For a moment she felt a panic - he knew what she was!

But the old master ignored her and continued his ruminations. "Balanced between light and dark you are - so finely balanced. Which way you will fall, I do not know. Before a precipice you stand. Will you fall off into that pit of darkness and despair from which you can never return, or will you the temptation resist and into the light emerge?"

"What are you saying, Master?" Mara asked, her voice reflecting all the trepidation she felt in her soul.

Yoda opened his eyes fully and gazed at her, his eyes filled with frank appraisal. She did not like the look in his eyes as he considered her.

"Trust me, do you young one?"

Mara was taken aback by the question, but as she considered it, she realized that she did. This kindly old creature would never use her - never keep her in the dark. He had hers - and Skywalker's - best interests at heart and she knew she could trust him.

"I do, Master," she responded simply.

"Good," Yoda responded, his answering smile radiated approval. "Tell you I will what I see, but accept my word alone you must not. The guidance of the Force you must seek; help you young Skywalker will."

At Mara's answering nod he continued, "A choice you must make. Upon this choice, your fate will rest. And maybe the fate of the entire galaxy."

Mara was confused. "A choice, Master? What choice? How will I know?"

"You will know. Trust young Skywalker - far greater is his strength and knowledge of the Force than he realizes. A great Jedi he will become and in you also, the potential for greatness I sense."

Mara's eyes widened at the master's words - no one had ever said such things about her, praised her in such a way. It was completely beyond her understanding to be held to such an ideal, to be considered as having so much potential. She had always been a tool to be used by her master - nothing more.

Yoda was watching her with compassion. "What ails you, young one? So surprised are you of your own potential? So lacking in confidence are you?"

Not knowing what to say, Mara took a moment and attempted to compose herself. She stared down at her boots, her mind awhirl with emotions, her thoughts and suppressed dreams. Everything she was, seemed focused on this moment.

Finally she glanced up to find the master still regarding her. "My..." she began, "my... mother... never saw fit to speak to me in such a way. She... gave me things to do, ways in which I could help our situation, but I was never more than a tool to her. She didn't even train me."

"Believe your story of your mother, I do not," Yoda responded with a snort.

Mara stared back at him incredulously. "Then, why..."

"Because, young one, I told you - in you the potential for greatness I sense. Brought you and Skywalker together the Force has and entwined your lives have become and this in such a short time. Whatever purpose for you the Force has, interfere with it, I cannot."

She wanted to laugh out loud at the preposterous statement - it had not been the Force, but her master's machinations which had brought about their being together. But something stopped her. A premonition of events yet to come perhaps... but certainly of more immediate import was the memory of her attempt to kill Skywalker, her failures on the sail barge, the changes in her orders, the alteration of her perceptions and opinions... the memory of being in Skywalker's arms. She had been thrown so off balance by this man, had failed so completely to complete her mission where she had always been successful in the past. If she were to look in the mirror now and compare herself to the person she had been before this mission, she was not certain she would even recognize herself. Surely there was more going on here than simply her master's plans and hopes, just as she had hope she was more than just an arm of her master's will. Perhaps there was more going on than her master knew.

It was a comforting thought.

"But if you suspect me of lying," she managed at last, "why would you take the chance?"

"Lying, are you?"

"No, of course not!" Mara rejoined angrily.

"Then nothing to fear you have," the master responded with a knowing glance.

She knew she had not fooled him in the slightest, but she could not fathom why he had not challenged her on it or even told Skywalker. Then again, Skywalker was no fool either. He had said nothing to give her concern, but something told her he was no more fooled by her story than his master - he had simply not challenged her on it, nor had he made his disbelief as plain as Yoda had. Neither were behaving as she would have expected, to say nothing of what she had been taught about Jedi all her life.

"Listen to me you must, young Arica. Finely balanced on the edge you are. No darkness in you I sense, but touched you the darkness has. If let it in you do, dire the consequences will be. A choice, I told you, you have. Once made, forever dominate your destiny it will - light and happiness on one side, darkness and despair the other. Trust in Skywalker you must, for your guiding light he will be. Nothing further to say on this subject I have."

"But, master, how will I know?"

"Know you will, when your mind is calm, at peace. Fear, anger, hatred - to suffering and the path the Emperor and Vader now walk, all these lead. Deny these things and right your choice will be."

His reference to her master made her breath catch in her throat, but she had no time to dwell on it as the master seemed to shrink, with the effort of these words seeming to become too much. His eyes fluttered closed and for a moment she thought he had fallen asleep - there was no movement from him, other than the shuddering gasps which passed for his breath. She could sense he would not live much longer.

At length, his eyes opened again and he regarded her, his eyes bleary and unfocused. "Call in young Skywalker, please. Almost spent, my time is."

Nodding her head, Mara rose and left the hut. She immediately spied Skywalker where he sat, in almost exactly the same spot she had occupied previously. His head was bowed over and he appeared to be deep in thought - she could feel his sorrow and despair at the prospect of his master's impending death and the crushing weight of the responsibility which was now his, almost seemed like a physical weight on his slender shoulders. Her heart opened slightly and she felt a rush of compassion and not a little pride in this man.

"Skywalker," she called softly, "Master Yoda wants to see you again."

"I know," he replied simply, though for the moment he did not move. She wondered if he had overheard some of their conversation, or if he sensed through the Force that the end was near.

At length he roused himself and approached, giving her a smile of thanks. Mara moved aside to allow him entrance into the hut, but he stopped her with a hand on her arm.

"Please come, Arica. I think he means for you to be there too."

She was able to do nothing more than nod her agreement shortly, sensing the pain and heartache he attempted to hide from her. She suddenly realized she wanted nothing more than to be there for him, to comfort him.

They entered the hut once again, Skywalker immediately moving to sit to the side of the ancient master, while Mara sat silently a little to the side and behind him. At their presence, Yoda roused himself once again.

"At hand the time is. Once gone am I, the last of the Jedi will you be - or the first. Remember, a Jedi's strength flows from the Force. Luke, remember you how you felt when left to face Vader you did?"

At Skywalker's nod, he continued, "When left to rescue your friends you did, revenge you had in your heart. Beware of anger, fear, and aggression. The dark side they are. Easily they flow, quick to join you in a fight. Once down the dark path you start, forever dominate your destiny it will."

"I remember Master; I will not fail again."

Yoda nodded with some difficulty and turned his attention to Mara. "Arica, the things I said, remember you well. The path you will walk, determined by your choice will be. Choose well."

Mara nodded her head, not trusting her voice to speak, lest he hear the falsehood she was certain would shine through.

The master peered at her through increasingly watery eyes, before his head fell back down upon his bed, spent. He mustered the strength for one more exhortation, but his head did not rise again.

"Luke - of the Emperor beware. Underestimate his powers you _must _not, or suffer your father's fate you will."

Mara blinked at the statement. _His father? What has his father to do with this? And who is his father anyway?_

But the Master continued on, heedless of her questions. "When gone I am... last of the Jedi will you be. Luke, strong in your family the Force is. Pass on what you... have... learned..."

His voice began to falter, his breaths coming in shorter and shorter gasps until there was almost no movement from his lungs. But summoning one last breath he murmured, "There... is... another... sky..."

He slumped at last against the bed and his last breath fled his now lifeless body - whatever he attempted to say going unspoken. As the air around him stilled, Mara gazed at his body through damp eyes, surprising herself with the depth of emotion she felt at his passing. She realized immediately the effect the old Jedi had had on her, though her acquaintance with him had been measured in mere minutes.

As she watched, the master's body suddenly faded from view and the blanket fell inward upon itself till it rested on the bed where the body had lain. She gasped in surprise, turning her wide-eyed attention on Skywalker, who merely reached over and squeezed her hand in reassurance. She had the distinct impression this was not the first time he had experienced this phenomenon. Tears ran down his cheeks unabashedly, falling like precious diamonds on to his boots.

They sat there together, both silent, each taking comfort in the other's presence, their hands clasped in a light grip.

At length, Skywalker attempted a tremulous smile. "Arica, I need to be alone for a short time," he said, his voice wavering with emotion, "to think and come to grips with this. Please wait here - I will be back shortly."

Mara nodded her head and slipped her hand out of his grasp, watching as he rose from his position on the floor and made his way out of the small hut. The dust motes in the air stirred with his passing and settled back to the floor and still Mara sat unmoving and unresponsive as she struggled with her increasingly chaotic thoughts, trying to process all she had seen and heard.

**A/N: **Thanks to everyone to read and review. As you can guess, then next chapter is pivotal - perhaps the most important chapter in the entire story. I have a discussion question to pose to everyone who reads this. Mara will go into the tree in the next chapter and I would like to know everyone's opinion - what will she see in the tree? I have the whole sequence pretty much planned out in my mind, but I am very interested in other opinions. Consider this a chance to influence the direction of the story and let me know what you think!

JE


	10. Chapter 9

**A/N:** Thanks to everyone who replied. I have been very busy with the end of the summer semester the last while, which is why this chapter has taken a little longer. Hopefully, it was worth the wait.

**Chapter 9**

Chaotic.

Thoughts and bits of past conversations, impressions, feelings jumbled up, tumbled inside Luke's head as he tried to wade his way through it all. Memories, thoughts and emotions from his training ran free, little anecdotes Yoda had told him, their sessions spent discussing the nature of the Force, the lightsaber lessons, his teachings and exhortations all flitted through his mind.

Chaotic.

Through all the feelings and thoughts, memories of better days and hopes for the future, one thought stood out clearly above the muddle...

_I am alone. I am the last of the Jedi._

He, of course, knew Yoda would tell him he was the first of the _new_ Jedi and had Arica with him; a representation of the future of the order. But in this moment, with the memory of his master's passing so vividly imprinted in his mind, it was impossible to think of being _first_. The responsibility was now his – that far off and somewhat nebulous future day he had always known would come, was now upon him.

Luke did not know what to do.

How was he to go on, to accept the destiny which was his? Yoda had told him he was ready, that he had learned all he needed to be a Jedi. All he could think about was the brevity of his training, the rushed nature in which Yoda had imparted the knowledge of the Jedi, everything he did _not _know... the very great mistake he had made in leaving early to rescue his friends. All that time which could have been better spent furthering his training and learning from Yoda...

So he wandered, not knowing where he was going or what he was doing. He retained enough presence of mind to avoid the dangerous parts of the jungle, but it was more instinctual than conscious. The muddle of his mind would not allow the more commonplace thoughts of personal safety.

A part of him wanted to be angry with Yoda and Ben. They had left him in this predicament - had given him enough training to be considered dangerous, then pointed him in the direction of the enemy like a trained Kath hound and set him loose. A part of him resented them for leaving him in this situation.

The more rational part, if any such existed, understood it was not their fault. Powerful though they had been in the Force, they could not have foreseen all, could not have known of all the twists and turns of fate which had led to this predicament. If any creature, anyone in the galaxy were to shoulder the blame, it would have to be the Emperor himself - the evil architect of this whole sordid mess. At the thought of the Emperor, Luke's confused thoughts calmed slightly and an implacable resolve filled him - he would see the Emperor defeated, see freedom restored to the galaxy if it cost him everything.

And his father... Luke stopped suddenly and slumped down on a nearby log, his hands running though his hair. Some of the blame must also rest with Darth Vader, he who had supported the Emperor, committed atrocities in his name, fathered a son and then left him to face the galaxy alone, while he gave himself over to the lust for power - his father, who had abandoned Luke to struggle alone with a legacy of blood and betrayal.

In that moment Luke realized he did not even know his father's real name...

"How can I go on alone?" he whispered, his voice barely audible.

"'Yoda and I will be with you always."

Luke's head shot up and he saw a blue apparition approaching through the gnarled trees and foliage of the jungle - a person he knew well.

"Ben..."

* * *

Mara was numb.

The Jedi master's words to her rang through her mind and she found herself struggling with the concepts he had espoused so powerfully. Mara had never been taught of the differences in Force users - certainly she had heard the words 'Sith' and 'Jedi', but the terms 'good' and 'evil' had never been a topic discussed within her hearing. Her master preferred words such as 'rebels', 'insurgents' or 'traitors'. In fact, if she were to attempt to label her master's views on the matter, she was certain he would claim there was no good or evil - to him it was merely 'us and them', or perhaps more succinctly, 'me and everyone else'. Of course in _his_ universe, _he_ was the center of all.

Was Yoda's view an accurate reflection of reality? Mara was not certain. But the more she considered it, the more she realized she had seen many things in the course of her service to her master - and some of them she felt would definitely fit into the category of 'evil'.

In fact, she was uncomfortably aware that in the eyes of many - likely Skywalker among them - among the acts she had performed in the service of her master, there was much which could undoubtedly be considered evil.

And Master Yoda's words regarding darkness had struck a chord deep within her, so close were they to the actuality of her master's Force aura and to a lesser extent Vader's. And how could the Jedi not have seen her master for what he was? Reason suggested he must have had the ability to hide what he was from others, although she had never known him to do such a thing. She could only assume he not longer had any reason to do so, what with the Jedi having been exterminated. When she contrasted his Force aura with Skywalker's and with Yoda's, which had been as bright and pure as Skywalker's, the differences were even more striking.

Was her master evil? It was a definite possibility, considering what she knew of him, but then, who was to say that black was not good - a purity and clarity of purpose rather than evil. But if he _was_ evil, then that would mean he was the real cause of conflict, strife and oppression in the galaxy. And by extension, if her master was evil, what did that make her? Certainly she did not agree with her master in many things - the destruction of Alderaan came readily to mind - but if he were evil, did that not mean that she, the follower and loyal servant was also to be considered an evil?

And what of Skywalker - what would he think when he found out, as ultimately he must, of her true allegiances? Would he hate her?

The mere thought of such an occurrence filled her with dread and agonizing pain - that Skywalker could turn from her in disgust, to consider her to be evil with no redeeming qualities, was more than she could bear.

_No! He must not find out,_ she promised herself fervently. How she was to avoid such a revelation was beyond her faculties to discern at the moment, but she was determined to prevent him from ever finding out if it was within her capacity.

A consciousness brushed her own and she began to feel a slight pressure against her mind. Her master was trying to contact her!

Mara almost snarled at the intrusion; of all the ill-conceived, poorly timed... But it would not do to have her master find her in such a state. She composed herself immediately, pushing her thoughts as deeply as she could, fearful of what he might sense if her mind were unguarded. Then she opened herself up to receive his communication.

_Master_, she responded to his questing sense, infusing her consciousness with every bit of deference, respect and obedience she could muster.

_My Hand._

* * *

"Why, Ben? Why didn't you tell me?"

The Jedi sat on the log close to Luke and seemed to consider the question. "'I was going to tell you when you had completed your training," he finally answered. "'But you found it necessary to rush off unprepared. I warned you about your impatience."

Luke brushed off the censure in the other's voice. He _deserved _to know the truth.

"I'm well aware of my own _failings_," Luke responded, feeling the bitterness he had held away now swell up within him. "You told me Darth Vader betrayed and murdered my father. I thought the Jedi did not lie."

Ben maintained his calm in the face of Luke's resentment, his face betraying nothing. "Your father, Anakin, was seduced by the dark side of the Force - he ceased to be Anakin Skywalker and became Darth Vader. When that happened, he betrayed everything Anakin Skywalker believed in. The good man who was your father was destroyed. So what I told you was true... from a certain point of view."

"A certain point of view!" Luke repeated, feeling more betrayed than ever. First his trusted mentor had lied to him and now he had the audacity to defend those actions without a hint of remorse.

"Luke," Ben responded gently, "you will find that many of the truths we cling to depend greatly on our point of view."

* * *

_What is the status of your mission? Are you still with Skywalker?_

_Yes, Master, _Mara returned, immensely relieved her master had not seemed to sense anything untoward in her manner.

_Good, good,_ he cackled with glee. _Everything is proceeding as I predicted. Skywalker has not sensed any duplicity in you?_

Mara considered the question. She was still certain Skywalker did not believe everything she had told him, but as he had not challenged her on it, she felt reasonably secure in answering affirmatively.

_No, Master, he has not. I think he may suspect I_'_m holding something back, but for the moment my cover story appears to be holding _-_ he has not questioned me on it._

_Then you must continue with the charade, use all your training to convince him of your sincerity. Your files have told you of the danger you face _-_ I_'_m certain you would not want Skywalker to become suspicious and_..._ question you. You know how ruthless he is._

_No, Master,_ she responded, defending Skywalker without thinking._ I have been with Skywalker and I have to tell you that your information about him, wherever you got it from, is mistaken. He is not ruthless or malicious _-_ if anything,_ _he is _too_ gentle and trusting. Someone has misled_ _you._

_Are you questioning me?_ her master once again responded with anger.

_No, Master, _she said hastily, wondering how she had come to defend Skywalker so unconsciously. _But I have spent time with him and seen him_...

_You know nothing!_ he thundered in her mind. _I should have known he would draw in such a weak minded little fool as you! You think you understand him after a few days of observing him, but you still can_'_t see him for what he is _-_ you see only what you want to see from your own point of view. But you know _nothing!

* * *

Luke said nothing in response, not willing to let go of his anger. He was alone and had been lied to for his entire life - he deserved some explanation for the events which had shaped his life and meant to have it.

"I don't blame you for being angry," Ben said with a sigh. "If I was wrong in keeping your father's identity, it would not be the only thing I was wrong in."

Luke's anger faded, replaced by his curiosity over Ben's words. He could sense that whatever Ben was referring to, it was not the normal, inconsequential mistakes which all beings made daily - this was something Ben considered to be an egregious error of judgment which undoubtedly had something to do with Luke himself.

"When I first encountered your father, he was just a young boy," Ben continued, his voice introspective and quiet. "By that time he was already incredibly strong in the Force, talented in many things and generous to a fault. My own master was killed soon after meeting him and asked me with his dying breath to train Anakin, believing him to be destined to be a great Jedi. I took his training upon myself, even though Yoda expressed serious misgivings. Such was my foolish pride, thinking I could be as good a teacher as Yoda and believing I could handle Anakin and mold him into a great Jedi. If I had listened to Yoda, involved him more in Anakin's training, seen what was happening to Anakin in time..."

Ben fell silent, his face a mask of pain as he considered the mistakes of the past, the regrets of a lifetime. It was evident to Luke that at one time, Ben and his one-time student had been very close.

"Ben, what happened?"

The Jedi sighed and continued. "Luke, you have to understand the Clone Wars heaped pressures on us all - Jedi were dispatched to become the generals of the republic armies and many padawan apprentices who would normally have been supervised more closely were left in positions of responsibility for which many were not ready. Anakin was one such. He was assigned to protect a young senator of Naboo, a senator he had met many years before in the company of my master. While completely capable of protecting the senator from harm, he proved incapable of withstanding temptation; at some point, they fell in love and were married, although this was kept secret from the galaxy as it was expressly against the Jedi code. The Emperor, though at the time of course unknown as a Sith, managed to engineer his election to the chancellorship of the Republic. He worked in secret to undermine and marginalize the Jedi - he knew Anakin's power, sensed his restlessness, perhaps even guessed his marriage with the senator, and ultimately was able to lure him to the dark side. I don't know exactly how Palpatine was able to accomplish it, but I fear my pride has had terrible consequences for the galaxy."

Luke drank in the history of his father, wondering at the events of the past and collective blindness of the Jedi. Clearly Ben blamed himself for Vader's defection, when it was also apparent circumstances had hardly been conducive to his watching over his apprentice's every move. To heap the blame entirely on Ben's head was wrong and overly simplistic. Perhaps Ben had been overly prideful and confident in his abilities, but surely his father himself must shoulder the largest share of the blame, if any blame was to be apportioned in such a complicated and unique situation.

"There is still good in him."

The statement was simple and quiet, but contained all of Luke's hope and conviction, strengthened by what he had just heard from the Jedi master.

* * *

_It appears as though you still have much to learn, my Hand._

Mara swallowed visibly and kept her opinions to herself, wary of angering her master further. She could not understand where she had gotten the courage to point out his error - for error she was convinced it was - but she knew pushing him much further would only result in her paying a steep price.

_Where are you?_

_I don_'_t know, Master. Skywalker wouldn_'_t tell me where we were going._

_I am intrigued. What are you doing?_

_We came to visit Skywalker_'_s Jedi Master._

_What?_ he screamed into her mind, causing Mara to sway at the intensity of his emotions. _The Jedi were exterminated like the vermin they were! There are none left._

_Please Master, I_'_m telling the truth,_ Mara protested.

_Who was it?_

_His name was Yoda, Master._

_That little troll survived, even to this day?_

Mara kept silent, once again not willing to risk her master's displeasure. Obviously he knew the old Jedi and the acquaintance was not one which was remembered with any fondness.

_You said _'_was_'_._

_Yes, Master. Yoda died soon after we arrived here._

The cackling once again reverberated across their link. _Then Yoda _is_ dead? May he rot in whatever hell the Jedi are consigned to when they die!_

* * *

Unfortunately, Ben did not see it that way. "I also thought he could be turned back. It couldn't be done. He is more machine now than man - twisted and evil."

"I can't kill my own father," Luke responded quietly, sensing the exhortation in Ben's words.

"Luke, you were humbled by Vader when you met him on Bespin. You know we would have preferred you finish your training with Yoda before facing him, but maybe in some ways, the experience was a good one for you. Not only were you forced to deal with the reality of your relationship with that... with your father, but the experience has turned out to be part of your training. Can you say you have been unchanged by the encounter? You have learned patience, much of your own strengths and limitations and have put that learning to good use. Perhaps you would have been better prepared to meet Vader if you had not left, but there is no disputing your fitness now. To be a Jedi, Luke, you must confront and then go beyond the dark side - the side your father could not get past; impatience is the easiest door - for you, like your father. But your father was seduced by what he found on the other side of the door, while you have held firm. You are no longer so reckless now, Luke. You are strong and patient. And you are ready for your final confrontation."

On some level, Luke knew Ben spoke nothing but the truth. But a part of him - admittedly the idealistic and perhaps slightly naïve part - refused to believe his father was beyond redemption. And he knew that what they were asking of him - demanding of him - was inherently wrong and unreasonable. No one should be asked to fight and kill his own father.

"I can't do it, Ben.

"Then the Emperor has already won." The old Jedi's manner and voice suggested defeat. "You were our only hope."

Mulling this over, Luke's thoughts were drawn back to Yoda's last words. "Yoda spoke of another..."

"The other he spoke of was your twin sister."

Luke's mouth opened in shock and try as he might, he could induce no sound to issue forth.

* * *

Mara was silent in the face of her master's unrestrained glee at the death of the old Jedi - an emotion Mara found she could neither duplicate nor agree with. And she had already overstepped her boundaries - gone much further in provoking him than she had ever dared before. Now was the time for prudence and silence.

_You seem_..._ changed_..._ since the last time we spoke, Hand,_ he finally stated after a long pause. _Has Skywalker corrupted you in such a short time? _

_No, Master,_ she responded immediately and fearfully.

_What have you been doing during_ _your time with him? How did you manage to convince him to let you accompany him?_

This was not a question Mara wanted to answer, one she had hoped to avoid indefinitely, but now he had asked, she had little choice but to respond.

_He offered to train me in the Force._

Her master's response was nothing like what she would have expected it to be. She had anticipated his anger, or perhaps even his indifference to the news, but when she sensed his sardonic amusement, she was surprised, not to mention concerned.

_And you accepted. It is certainly convenient, given the curiosity and thirst for learning which you_ _have always displayed, especially for the ways of the Force._

_Master, I_...

_Do not even attempt to deny it, Hand,_ the Emperor responded, his mood unfathomable to Mara. He did not seem to be especially angry, but she knew instinctively he was not pleased either.

_I suppose there was no other way to gain his confidence,_ he continued. _Seeing so much_..._ potential_..._ in you, he would undoubtedly have wanted to pass on his learning. Skywalker is obviously powerful, an interesting development, given his training. What has he _taught_ you so far?_

His sarcastic phrasing allowed no doubt as to his feelings concerning the _Jedi Heresy_ Skywalker would have imparted to her. _We haven_'_t had time for anything specific, Master. We did a little sparring and talked about various techniques, but nothing further._

_I sense you have not told me all, Hand,_ he responded after a moment. _Out with it, or I shall take it from you, when next we meet _-_ it will not be pleasant I promise you._

Mara knew it was not an idle threat - he could do just that if he so chose. _Nothing specific, Master. I just_..._ I believe Skywalker has the ability to become an excellent teacher, Master. He was very_..._ thorough when we discussed my_..._ my training._

_And how did you find him with a blade?_

_He is very talented, Master,_ she responded, allowing her admiration for Skywalker's skill to flow over into the link. _He knows little of the forms and yet he uses his lightsaber with a natural and intuitive grace. I believe he may even be a match for Vader._

Her mind filled with her master's gleeful laughter, although she could not imagine what he found so amusing about Skywalker's skill. Something was not adding up here and Mara was certain she had not seen or guessed at the least part of her master's plans.

_Excellent, Hand. You are to be commended for what you have managed to accomplish thus far. You have my permission to teach Skywalker what you know of the forms and learn from him what he will teach you of the Force._

_Thank you, Master,_ she responded, grateful he seemed to be taking the news well, yet curious over his odd mixture of unconcern and eagerness when informed of Skywalker's skill with the blade. Why would he want Skywalker to become even more proficient with his lightsaber?

_But_... the word seemed to reverberate between them. _You must take care not to be_..._ contaminated by the idealistic Jedi dogma Skywalker will almost certainly try to spout at you._

_I understand, Master_...

_Do you?_ he interrupted harshly. _I_'_m not certain you do understand _-_ at least you_'_ve shown very little comprehension,_ _given your behavior during_ _this interview. Let me be rightly understood _-_ once you return, I shall have to attend to your_..._ re-education and purge from you the heretical and disgusting Jedi traits you already seem to have picked up. The more you absorb from him, the greater effort it will take to eradicate all these unwanted tendencies. _

_Do I make myself clear?_ This was spoken very slowly and deliberately.

Mara was almost physically shaking by now - she recognized his meaning and the menacing threat behind his words and shuddered to think of exactly what this _re-education_ would entail.

_Yes, Master,_ _perfectly clear._

There was a long pause during which her master seemed to consider the sincerity of her words. _Good. Remember, stay with Skywalker and ensure you are with him when he comes. I will not contact you again until you return _-_ if Skywalker is as powerful as you say, then we will run the risk of you being discovered. We would not want that now, would we?_

It was a rhetorical question which nonetheless demanded an answer. _No, Master._

* * *

"Sister? I don't have a sister."

"To protect you both against the Emperor, you were separated when you were born. The Emperor knew, as I did, that one day, with the Force on their side, Skywalker's offspring would be a threat to him. For that reason, your sister has remained safely anonymous."

Luke was astounded. No one had ever mentioned a twin sister before - in all the time he had spent with his aunt and uncle they had never mentioned a word, although he admitted it was possible they had never even known. And until now, neither Ben nor Yoda had ever made such an assertion before. But what possible reason could Ben have to lie? Something told Luke that Ben spoke the absolute truth - that the last piece of the puzzle had finally been made known to him and the secret of his past and that of his family's was finally unraveling.

No. The last piece was surely his sister's identity, the one thing Ben had yet to tell him. It was not likely to be anyone he had ever even met before.

And yet, something whispered in his ear, tickled at the base of his skull. There were times in the past when he had felt a certain kinship to others, a sense of connection where no such was known to exist. He had always put these feelings aside as fancy, or déjà vu, but the revelations of this day were now forcing him to consider his feelings and impressions in an entirely different manner. In fact, there was one such person to whom he had always felt close, to whom he had always felt connected and had in the past tried and failed to feel a romantic attachment with...

Suddenly his head snapped up and he peered at Ben, knowing exactly to whom he was referring. "Leia! Leia is my sister!"

The old master nodded his head. "Your insight serves you well. Bury your feelings down deep. They do you credit, but they could be made to serve the Emperor."

Luke tried to sort through his feelings. He'd always loved Leia, almost from their first meeting and had mistaken that love for romance, but now his feelings were much clearer than he had ever before known them to be. Whereas before, even after they'd spoken on Tatooine, he had still harbored some confusion over his feelings, though he had not consciously admitted it to himself. He knew he did not desire her in a romantic way, but also knew his love for her was deeper than the love of a friend. Now he could put a name to it - subconsciously he had always loved her as a sibling, even before he had known of the relationship. The Force had surely called to them, understanding their relationship even if they had not.

But now, more than that, he felt protective toward her, as an elder brother might feel toward his younger sister, although for all he knew, she may have been born first. And he knew clearly what he had to do - loathe as he was to face his father again, he knew he could not step aside and abrogate the responsibility to her in such a callous and cowardly fashion. Once again destiny had stepped in to guide matters and he was forced to accept it - he could not let it fall to his sister.

He peered at Ben, wondering if the Jedi had manipulated the conversation so it would transpire in this fashion in order to elicit his agreement. He decided it did not matter. "I guess that settles it then. I can't allow Leia to get involved now - Vader would destroy her."

"I am truly sorry, Luke," Ben said with genuine regret. "I know this is difficult, but the die was cast long ago. You cannot escape your destiny. You will have to face Darth Vader again."

"I understand, Ben. I will confront Vader."

Ben nodded and began to fade from sight. "I must leave you now Luke. Keep your sister's identity secret, for if you fail she is truly our last hope."

* * *

It was dark by the time Luke returned to the hut, having spent several more hours thinking about the words of his two Jedi mentors. As he stepped inside, he could see that Arica had already succumbed to her weariness and had fallen asleep close to the fire. He gazed at her face, entranced by her sleeping countenance, the peacefulness she exhibited in her sleep, the soft, almost vulnerable look on her face which was never present when she was awake. She had had about as much sleep as he had the previous night and it had obviously caught up with her.

Careful so as not to disturb her, Luke crept through the small home and stirring up the fire and adding more fuel to it, he lay down on the floor beside her, trying to stay as far away from her as he could manage in the cramped confines of the room, knowing it would not do to have her wake up with him pressed up against her.

Even with his fatigue, sleep was a long time coming.

* * *

The morning light moved across her eyelids, gently prodding Mara toward consciousness, but Mara, not having slept the night before and unwilling to give up a few more precious moments of blissful unawareness, resolutely kept her eyes closed and burrowed further down into the softness of her pillow.

It took several moments for the thought to permeate through her muddled brain - the pillow was not soft, nor was it precisely hard. In fact, it did not seem to be a pillow at all... And had she not fallen asleep on the floor?

Her eyes snapped open at once and she gazed up into Skywalker's still peacefully sleeping face. He was lying on his back with his arm under her neck, while she was pressed against his side, with her head on his shoulder and her left arm wound about his midsection, pressed lightly into his stomach.

He sighed in his sleep at that moment and her breath caught in her throat as she gazed up at him, all thoughts of retreat suddenly forgotten. Try as she might, she could no longer deny there was something between them - an emotion for which she could find no words.

She momentarily considered moving away from him - reclaiming her own personal space, but the idea did not hold the appeal it once would have. Lying here next to him felt right.

She settled down once again, nestled against his side and allowed sleep to overtake her.

* * *

They stayed on Dagobah for the next three days, most of their time taken up with either training or discussions based on a variety of topics. Each found in the other a sympathetic companion, which they both needed after the revelations and grief of their first day on the planet.

Luke spent considerable time pondered his companion, wondering at her origins and the things she had told him since their meeting. His talk with Yoda, coupled with some of the things she had said and the way she had acted since he had met her, had now convinced him she had not told him all. He was certain she was hiding something from him, although he did not know what it was and did not feel it was appropriate to question her as if he did not trust her. And he did trust her; as confused over his feelings and unsure as he was about her truthfulness toward him, that fact was incontrovertible.

Mara, for her part, was trying to decide what she was to do. She was bound to her master and knew deep down she had no real choice but to do as he asked. But she harbored deep misgivings about what he intended with Skywalker - and her own 're-education'. She desperately wanted to find another solution, one which would remove the necessity of turning Skywalker over to her master. She was still confused over what to believe - her master or Yoda - and it kept her awake long into the nights after Skywalker fell asleep, filling her mind with constant battles, as though two factions had taken over her consciousness and were warring for control over her.

Concerning the incident of the morning after Yoda's death, neither spoke of waking up in the other's arms and they kept their distance from each other after that. Neither stopped wondering, however, about the other's feelings about the matter and both struggled to decipher their own.

* * *

Two days after their arrival, they were sitting around a fire Skywalker had built outside her small shuttle. Mara was slightly surprised they were still on the planet - she had expected him to want to leave immediately after his master's death and return to the rebels, but thus far he had shown no inclination.

It had grown dark and Mara observed him surreptitiously, watching the firelight dance across his features. He seemed solemn tonight, more so than usual - she watched as he stared into the fire, seemingly lost in his own thoughts. He had been unusually silent and distracted the entire day, often losing his concentration even while speaking, his mind on something else as he stared off at something only he could see. She would wait patiently for him to recall where he was and then they would pick up where they had left off as though nothing had happened. Once, he had become distracted during a sparring match and she had almost managed to disarm him, but he had recovered in time and proceeded to win the match.

She was convinced something was bothering him, although what it could be, she could not imagine. Her life had taken such a drastic turn since meeting him; she found anticipating anything was now beyond her, so many surprises and twists had occurred. She would simply have to wait until he decided to speak to find out what was bothering him.

She did not have to wait long.

"Arica," he called her suddenly.

When Mara's eyes found his face, she could find no trace of the previous distraction and indecision - whatever had been bothering him, he was now focused and appeared to have come to a resolution... or a decision.

"Arica," he repeated, "I have something to tell you."

Immediately Mara's imagination went into overdrive and for a brief moment she felt panic. Was he about to tell her that his master had advised him not to train her? Was he ready to part ways with her? What would she do?

"It will be difficult to tell you this, but there is something you need to know. You may not wish to stay with me after I tell you this, so if you do want to part ways after hearing what I have to say to you, I only ask that you get me off this planet and back to a place from which I can make my way back to the Alliance."

Mara was jolted out of her thoughts and the panic instantly fled, replaced by a deep curiosity. What sin could be so egregious and unforgivable that he thought she would not want to stay with him any longer?

"I've told you of my aunt and uncle," he began hesitantly, "but I've never spoken to you of my parents. Until recently I knew almost nothing of them, but I have made a... discovery that I think you should know about, as it may effect your decision to train."

As he visibly attempted to summon the courage which had momentarily failed him, Mara remembered back to the day they had arrived. She remembered the master asking her to leave the hut so they could discuss something in private and her conviction there was some secret regarding Darth Vader which they did not want her to know about. She felt a sudden premonition that the secret was about to come out.

"I grew up believing my father was a navigator on a space freighter. I have recently discovered he was no such thing - it appears my uncle lied to me."

He glanced up at her from where he had been peering into the fire, his eyes pleading and willing her to understand. "The truth is, Darth Vader is my father."

The words, softly and slowly spoken, nevertheless seemed to pierce Mara directly through the heart and she stared at him, an incredulous expression affixed to her face.

"Darth Vader?" she demanded. "How?"

His features took on an amused look which did not reach his eyes. "In the usual manner, I would expect."

Mara brushed off his feeble attempt at humor impatiently, her mind already reeling with possibilities. "You're Darth Vader's _son_? How could that be? How could he even father a child?"

"I imagine he was not always the way he is now, Arica," Skywalker responded gently. "As for what happened to change him or the circumstances of my birth, I cannot answer you - I'm as much in the dark as you are."

Her mind alive with possibilities and questions, Mara looked away to peer into the blackness of the night. Of all the events since she had met him, all the surprises and shocks, all the changes wrought to her life, this was by far the largest and most surprising. The black giant had always been cold and reserved when she had been in his presence - it was impossible to understand how he could have fathered a son.

Darth Vader, Skywalker's father!

And the Emperor had wanted Skywalker dead!

Did her master know who Skywalker was? He must - he had to have known what Vader's birth name was and once the Skywalker name had come to light, it was simple to make the connection from there.

And as for Vader, did he know the young rebel who had destroyed the Death Star was none other than his son? Again, the answer must be in the affirmative. Surely Vader would recognize the name himself and do everything in his power to know the truth once he heard it.

And what did it all mean? Had the Emperor dispatched Mara to kill Skywalker, afraid of his lackey's loyalty? Or had he sent her to make an example of Skywalker, to keep Vader in line?

Or still more chilling, had she sent her to Skywalker, expecting her to fail?

The possibilities assaulted her mind in dizzying succession, forcing her to withdraw her consideration. She would have time later to ponder the implications. For now, she was certain Skywalker expected her to desert him once he had told her the truth.

She glanced back at him, only to find him regarding her with a peculiar mix of apprehension and regret written on his face. Her earlier impression had been correct - he fully expected her to want to have nothing further to do with him.

Part of her wanted to run away and never return - she was suddenly filled with an image of Skywalker, eyes glowing yellow like her master's, laughing in much the same manner as he. She shuddered to think of those expressive blue eyes permanently hidden under a sickening yellow tint.

Pushing the thought away, she grabbed hold of herself sternly - she _knew_ Skywalker by now. Despite her continued confusion of just exactly what her master was, she knew Skywalker was nothing like him - whatever he was, he was certainly not Vader and Mara knew instinctively she did not fear him. Did she?

She shook off the thought - either way, she had no choice; her master had told her to stay with him and stay with him she must.

"I won't deny, I'm surprised," she finally responded in a quiet voice. "But that doesn't affect my decision to train with you. I want to learn to use the Force and this doesn't change that."

The expression on his face melted into one of intense relief and a brilliant smile broke over his features, causing Mara's heart to flip in her chest.

"Thank you, Arica," he said at once, his heart in his eyes.

Mara shrugged his gratitude away. "You're not Vader. You can hardly help who your father is."

They sat in companionable silence for several moments before Mara's curiosity got the better of her. "So, how did you find out about this, anyway?"

He gazed at her and Mara instinctively understood - he was torn between the desire to keep the particulars to himself and the need to unburden himself to a friend.

'Friend'. The word came so easily to her now and she was startled. But instantly she understood; somehow Skywalker _had_ become her friend - more than a friend, part of her insistently whispered.

"I will tell you, Arica, but you must keep this conversation strictly confidential for the time being. I'm not ready for it to become general knowledge."

At her nod of understanding, Skywalker moved closer to her - close, but not quite touching - and launched into his tale, beginning to recount the events which had led to the loss of his hand and the discovery of his father's true identity. Mara was enthralled, her eyes latched on to her eyes searched his face and her attention was riveted on his story. As he weaved the tale, she found herself once again revising, improving her opinion of him. He had met and conquered everything from his past and emerged stronger for it.

The thought struck her as he continued his story - could he actually defeat Vader? Although she had no definitive answer, she knew it was a distinct possibility, a thought which gave her a sudden burst of hope. But no... her master would surely tip the scales against him. They were two and he was but one - young and quickly trained at that.

* * *

The next day, Luke decided, would be their last on Dagobah. It was now time to return to the Alliance and he had spent enough time saying goodbye to the planet and his master. The time had come to leave the past behind and look forward to the future and his destiny.

There only remained one thing left to do - he had to take Mara to the tree.

He had decided before going to sleep the night before that he would not tell Mara where they were going until they got there - much the same as Yoda had done with him when he had gone there the year before.

They left that morning, heading in the general direction of the tree, ostensibly for some physical training. They stopped every so often to discuss some of the things Luke was trying to teach her and paused for a brief sparring session.

Sparring had become one of Luke's favorite activities in the course of their interactions. During these times he was able to throw off the weightier responsibilities of a teacher and slip into the role of student as Arica began showing in more detail the forms and their uses, strengths and weaknesses. He recognized much of what Yoda taught him in them, but whereas Yoda had shown him certain techniques, the time had been woefully inadequate to teach him any more than the basics. With Arica, their sessions were much more in depth.

As they jogged along, Luke pushed thoughts of sparring firmly away, knowing he would have to concentrate on his companion. Today was possibly the most important day in her training even though it had just begun. Luke had had several months to prepare (unwittingly) for this day, while Arica had had only a few days - a part of Luke was fearful for her. However, Yoda had made it quite clear that this was a necessary trial for her growth and Luke was determined to follow his master's instructions to the letter. Besides, in the short time he had known her, Luke had come to know Arica was strong and competent - she would survive the experience and emerge stronger for it, he was certain.

When they finally reached the vicinity of the tree, Luke called a halt to their run and sat down on a fallen log, motioning her to take a break. He took a sip out of his water canteen, all the while keeping a close eye on Arica to see her reaction. Much as he had many months ago, she sat on the ground and stayed there for some time, gazing around without interest at the surrounding landscape. Luke could already feel the cold, ominous presence of the tree and given the sensitivity she had shown to changes in the Force, Luke expected she would sense it quickly.

True to form, it was only a matter of moments before her roaming eyes caught sight of the tree and she stared at it for several moments, apparently trying to make sense of what she was feeling.

"Skywalker," she said suddenly, "what is going on here? I feel something... cold... implacable."

Luke regarded, resolutely remaining silent, wondering what she would do. She stood and approached the tree, stopping several meters away from it, peering into the opening, before turning back to him.

"What is that?" she asked pointedly.

"That tree is strong in the dark side of the Force," Luke responded simply.

"You brought me here on purpose, didn't you?"

When Luke replied with nothing more than a nod, Arica tapped her foot impatiently. "Well, what do you expect me to do?"

"You must go into it, Arica."

"What's in there?"

Luke felt a wry smile appear on his face as he considered the very same question he had asked of his master. "In the words of my master, 'only what you take with you'."

This was not enough for Arica, however, and she regarded him impatiently. "Can't you give me any more than that?"

"Unfortunately, Arica, I suspect it's different for everyone. I certainly don't expect you to see what I saw. All I can tell you is that we must all face the dark side of ourselves."

"And what did you see?"

"I'm sorry, but I can't tell you any more now. Maybe later..."

Arica glanced back at the cave and a shudder ran though her. "Do I need to take anything with me?"

Smiling, Luke rose to his feet and approached her, aware she was stalling the inevitable. "Arica," he said as he reached her and placed his hands gently on her shoulders, "I will leave it up to you. However, may I counsel you not to take any weapons with you? Believe me, I speak from experience."

Arica paused at this, but nodded and handed him her lightsaber, which she had unclipped from her belt. Luke accepted it with a reassuring smile. She turned toward the tree and drew a deep breath.

"Arica, aren't you forgetting something?" Luke asked, amused at her omission.

She didn't need to ask what he meant. She turned sheepishly and with a quick flick of her wrist, handed over the tiny blaster which suddenly appeared in her hand. Luke accepted the proffered weapon and on impulse reached out and embraced her briefly.

He drew away, taking in her startled countenance with an amused glance, before handing a small glow stick to her. "Go and be mindful of what you see. You may not understand it immediately, but remember - it has something important to tell you. Do not dismiss its lesson out of hand."

She directed a long searching look into his face, before drawing away. She approached the tree, her body language betraying her trepidation, and in moments had disappeared from sight. Luke returned to the fallen log and sat down, trying to ignore the apprehension he felt on her behalf. If her trial was anything like his experience, she would not emerge from that cave unscathed.

At least he had managed to dissuade her from taking her weapons - would that he had been so easily influenced himself.

* * *

Mara dropped down onto the cave floor, immediately repelled by the squishy feeling of the ground under her feet. Was there nowhere in this whole damned world that was not sodden?

The lighted glow stick revealed nothing more than thick, green vegetation and the ever present muck which was the planet's most distinguishable feature. A quick examination of the walls led to the discovery of nothing more remarkable than tree roots and insects of all shapes and sizes. Mara was not particularly squeamish when it came to the sight of insects, but the sheer number and size of them, coupled with the dark of the cave, made her shudder - she resolved to stay as far from the walls of this cave as she could.

She paused at the entrance of the cave momentarily, considering the situation and Skywalker's instructions. She was almost tempted to laugh the whole thing off as an overactive imagination and emerge after a few moments of waiting in the entrance. Something stopped her, however... she was not certain if it was merely her nerves or the way her eyes had been opened ever since she had met him, but she was unwilling to shrug off Skywalker's words as nothing more than fancy. Besides, she had felt something as soon as she had approached the small clearing in which the tree stood. It had beckoned her, sang out to her in a language she could not quite make out. She knew it was inviting her to open up, to partake of something she had never partaken of before. It felt much like her master, but different... changed in some subtle way.

And yet, as she felt it calling to her, she also felt a hesitation and Yoda's words regarding the call of the dark side and its seductive, easy path. She would not succumb to the temptation so easily. She would resist and see what it wished to show her before she made any decisions.

Her choice made, Mara began moving forward into the cave, the glow stick held resolutely out in front of her. Several times she encountered the remains of massive spider webs, strung out indiscriminately across the cave. She cleared these out with disgust and forged on ahead, all the while wondering how far she had come into the cave and how long it would take it to retreat from it when the time came. And as she continued, the glow stick seemed to give off less light, almost as though the oppressive atmosphere in the cave was limiting its ability to function.

How long she continued she could not say; it may have been mere moments or since the beginning of time for all she knew, but at length she came to a small chamber, from which the pathway branched off in three directions. She stopped and frowned; Skywalker had not mentioned a branch in the path and had given her no directions.

_Maybe it_'_s another Jedi test. Take the wrong passage and they boot you out of the order._

The irreverent thought caused a brief smile to appear on Mara's face. Of course, now that the _order_ consisted of one very under-trained Jedi, Mara doubted he would dismiss her out of hand if she took the wrong tunnel.

She stared at the three openings for some moments, before finally deciding it was unimportant which one she took. Choosing at random, she made her way down the middle path, her glow stick held out carefully in front of her as she walked.

As it turned out, she did not have long to wonder how far she would have to go. Almost immediately the tunnel widened out and opened up into a large room. It was no more than twenty meters square and not much more than three in height, but it was much larger than any other chamber she had come across thus far in her travels in this Force forsaken hole.

It also appeared to be completely empty.

Disgusted, Mara peered around intently, advancing some few meters into the room, while waving her glow stick into the preternatural gloom which encompassed the cave. Finding nothing but bare walls, insects and tree roots, Mara snorted in anger, wondering if she should return to the surface or try one of the other passages instead.

She turned to leave, when out of the corner of her eye, she saw a slight movement. She turned back and peered into the murk, straining to see what had caught her attention, but the room seemed to be as empty as before. Disgusted with herself for her flight of fancy, Mara turned once again, when suddenly a dark cowled figure seemed to materialize out of thin air and advanced into the range of the glow stick. Mara stumbled back with an involuntary cry of dread, when a voice she knew well said, "What's the matter, Mara, my dear? Don't you recognize me?"

* * *

Outside the cave, Luke paced back and forth in front of the entrance, his thoughts whirling faster and faster, as though travelling through hyperspace. The small glade in which the tree stood had seemed to grow even more dark and oppressive since Arica had entered the tree and Luke had grown more fearful for her.

Had Yoda felt this way when Luke had entered the tree, or was something happening to Arica? He had no answers and precious little experience to draw from. Reason told him there was nothing in the tree that could physically harm her and that she was facing her own fears and demons in the tree. It did not make waiting any easier.

And then there had been the sudden spike of fear from Arica, which he had felt clearly through their ever strengthening bond. He had jumped up and almost gone rushing into the tree after her.

Something had stopped him; however, he was uncertain what. A presentiment? A realization that to enter and interrupt whatever she was facing would not only interfere with her development as a Jedi, but would be an unmitigated disaster?

So he was stuck with waiting and pacing, hoping she would emerge from the tree with her faculties intact.

It never entered his head that his concern for her was far more than the fear for a mere friend.

* * *

Mara _knew_ that voice - she knew it almost as well as she knew her own. She had known it from the earliest days of her childhood, from the small amount of Force training she had received in her youth, had heard it raised in chilling anger and in amused chuckling. She had heard it in the furthest reaches of the galaxy.

"What's the matter, Mara? Have you nothing to say to your Master?"

"I'm... sorry, Master," she finally managed, still staring wide-eyed at the figure now peering at her intently. "I did not expect..."

"To see me here?" the master cackled in response, peering at her through the hood which still obscured his face, but somehow allowed her a clearer impression of her master's features than she had ever seen before. The white pallor of his scarred and warped face stood out in sharp contrast to the darkness of the room. But above all, the sight of his glowing eyes arrested her breath and sent chills up her spine. The sight of him both fascinated and repulsed her.

"Why would you not expect to see me here?" he continued. "I am your Master, after all."

"But Master..."

"Now Mara, dear," he interrupted, his mouth twisting into a sneer as he said the word 'dear', "enough of me. We need to talk about you."

She knew something was wrong here, but was allowed no time to think about it further, as he was already speaking again.

"You think to hide from me, Mara, but I see through you. I can see the traitorous thoughts going through your mind."

"But Master, I never..."

"Silence!" he thundered. "You forget yourself! You think you can be free of me, but you will never be free! You are a servant and nothing more... do not consider yourself to be the equal of your company!"

Tears started in Mara's eyes as she stared back at the Emperor in consternation. He had certainly spoken to her in such tones before, had punished her physically and emotionally, but never had his words cut her to the core as they did now. Until this moment, she had thought herself inured to his words.

The Emperor regarded her disdainfully. "Look at you - a confused, frightened little wretch who has daydreams of some day being someone. Foolish little girl who believes she is falling in love. You actually think Skywalker will ever see _anything_ worthwhile in you? And what do you think his reaction will be when he knows what you are? Do you think he will laugh and brush it off? You are a fool to believe he will ever love one such as you."

The tears starting in Mara's eyes intensified as her master taunted her again and again. Was she deluding herself? Would Skywalker ever see anything in her or would he be disgusted once he knew what she was? The mere thought of those blue eyes regarding her with cold contempt caused Mara to tremble, her tears to flow faster in unbelievable pain.

"Once he knows the truth, he will know exactly what you are - a murdering, lying, backstabbing little whore, of no more use than to be thrown to the troops for their pleasure! I begin to believe that you are of no more use to me, my dear. Believe me, I can find many more to serve the same purpose you so inadequately perform."

Finally, the word 'whore' let Mara's anger escape from where it had been forced down by her dejection. "I am _not_ a whore!"

He chuckled and turned his head to the side. "Are you not?"

Mara's anger was halted abruptly - the voice was different... almost familiar.

"Weren't you commanded to seduce me, Mara?"

He looked back at her and under the hood she could see Skywalker peering intently at her from underneath the cowl. But she had never seen him this way before. Gone was the kindly, compassionate look which usually adorned his face, replaced by a cold, calculating stare - a look usually reserved for an insect one was about to crush. His face had lost the healthy tone of youth, replaced instead by a repulsive pallor, pale white flesh where there had once been a healthy tan from the Tatooine suns. But most disturbing of all were his eyes - the impossibly deep, sky blue eyes, which had been changed, replaced with the yellow glow she had only ever seen in her master.

This was not Skywalker... it couldn't be!

"Well, Mara? Answer me!"

"I never... I couldn't..."

"Yes, you could!" he screamed, his face alive with a rage she had never seen him display. "You were sent here to seduce me and tease me with promises of love and devotion. But I'm not so easily fooled; I know what you really are - nothing but an automaton, tied to the will of your master, incapable of thinking for yourself."

Mara shook her head frantically - this could not be true. Skywalker laughed darkly and began to advance on her.

"But I promise you, I will have the last laugh, Mara. After I dispose of the Emperor and take his place, I will claim you for my own. I will make you serve me as you once served him, although I expect your service to me will bring you far more... pleasure... than _he_ ever could."

Backing away from him, Mara shook her head, desperately trying to refute his assertions.

Skywalker though, was having none of it. "Oh come now, Mara; you didn't think you would ever be free, did you? In love? You know love is a lie - a falsehood to trap the gullible. There is only power and sadly you will never know such power. You will always be a slave to your betters, nothing more!"

As she backed away, Mara suddenly caught her boot on a tree root and fell, landing on her rear painfully. Ignoring the pain and wetness already seeping through her pants in the sodden earth, Mara gazed fearfully up at Skywalker.

Only then did she discover the specter had changed once again. There, staring down at her with a cruel, merciless look in her eyes was a reflection of herself - but only a caricature of her own features, distorted as they were by the same white skin and glowing eyes which had been on Skywalker's face.

"Come, Mara," the figure beckoned. "This is what you want - to be your own person, to live life how _you_ want to live it... To be free!"

Fascinated in spite of herself, Mara stared up at the hand extended toward her. Was it not what she had always dreamed of - to be her own person? It would be so easy to give in and take the hand...

But something stopped her. A memory perhaps, something Yoda had said... or possibly Skywalker... _We must all face the dark side of ourselves._

Was that what this was? Was it nothing more than a test of her strength of self, her ability to resist the temptation of the dark side? What was the dark side really, anyway? Was it the evil Yoda and Skywalker seemed to think it was or was it merely a manifestation of a different path, the one which her master trod?

She was just beginning to work through all she had seen, when the apparition's voice interrupted her reverie and she looked up yet again.

"Will you not join us, Mara?"

Mara was not certain of anything - she was confused and hurt at the figure's earlier words - but there was one thing she _was_ certain of. If giving in and accepting the invitation were to change her to the extent that she would not even recognize herself, that she would lose her inherent humanity, she knew she could not accept.

Slowly she began to shake her head, edging her way from the figure extending its hand.

Suddenly, the figure began to change - a sickening, frightening change which took Mara's breath away and filled her with terror. In an instant, the face morphed into some terrifying vision from a child's dream; the eyes became slits of red fire, the nose flattened and narrowed to a thin gash, and the mouth twisted in a grimace, the teeth elongated to pointed spikes.

"If you will not join us willingly, then you will join us unwillingly," the figure rasped.

And then it pounced.

Instinctively, Mara _pushed_ at the figure using reserves she never knew she possessed, catching in full in the chest and sending it careening across the room. It impacted with the far wall, striking it at the base of its neck and collapsed to the floor, its head bent forward at an impossible angle. Silence reigned over the room and for a moment, all Mara could hear with the frenzied beating of her heart and her desperate gasps of air.

The quiet was suddenly broken by the sound of insane laughter and the figure lying at the end of the room straightened and raised its head and peered at her with manic eyes, the fire of its eyes grown hotter, brighter. It shuffled to its feet and haltingly approached her once again, its cackling firing against the ends of her nerves, pushing her from terror to the brink of madness.

"Good, Mara," it wheezed in between gales of insane laughter. "Your hate and anger make you powerful - only by harnessing them can you defeat me and save yourself. Soon you will belong to us!"

Faster than thought, it rushed at her again, hands stretched out like talons to rend and tear. A shriek of pure terror escaped from Mara's throat and she scrambled to her feet flew from the room, heedless of everything but the need to get away from the terrifying specter which appeared ready to consume her very soul. Forgotten was the lesson, the tree and the things she had seen, replaced by the need to escape.

She raced through the tunnels back the way she had come, searching for the exit, all the while hearing the laughter pursuing her, sibilant wisps of exhortation and temptations flittered through her mind, calling up the images from which she was fleeing, sucking the life away from her very soul.

_You belong to us, Mara_..._ Stop fighting_..._ Your destiny_..._ Let go of your anger_...

Thrashing her head back and forth to dislodge the thoughts which seemed blazoned on her very brain, Mara stumbled into the side of the passage and nearly fell, while raising her hands to cover her ears. The laughter simply increased and became louder and more maniacal.

Feeling her own sanity slipping from the continued onslaught of the laughter, Mara kept running and running until she thought she would never again emerge from the tree, would never feel the wind on her face... would never again know the sensation of being held in Skywalker's arms.

Before she had time to wonder about the change, she was scrabbling up the side of the cave's entrance and had begun to run across the clearing, when she was suddenly grabbed and held in a viselike grip.

Screaming, she fought like a wild thing, scratching and clawing to escape from the apparition which held her fast, but it grimly held on, refusing to let go. She could almost feel its claws sinking into her, its teeth tearing out flesh as it began to consume her.

Gradually, however, she recognized... a voice pleading with her to calm down, a gentle, fearful presence intruding on her consciousness. Gradually, her fears abated and she became aware once again of the damp, leaf-strewn ground of the clearing, the light of the sun as it pushed its hazy way down through the ever present fog of the planet, the breath of a breeze on her tear-streaked face.

Eventually, she looked up and drank in the sight she had thought would be forever denied her - the sky blue gaze of Skywalker's eyes as he looked down at her, an anxious expression on his face. The image would be forever etched upon her consciousness, burned into her memory, easily recalled years after the event.

The sight of him wavered and blurred and great hiccupping sobs wracked her body as she began to cry her terror and grief into Skywalker's waiting shoulder. She could feel his hand tracing circles on her back, hear the quiet soothing words he spoke in her ear, but the only thing she could think about was the horror of the tree, the fears she had subconsciously harbored which had suddenly been dredged up from the depths of her mind. How could she have ever thought this could have a happy ending? Whatever she had seen in the tree, she could not dispute the truth of its words - when Skywalker knew what she was, he would hate her.

The thought did not stop her from clinging to him as she sobbed out her agony and grief.


	11. Chapter 10

**A/N:** Well, here is chapter 10 - it took quite a bit longer than I was hoping it would. Thanks to everyone for their comments. I am glad everyone is enjoying it and the comments make it easier to sit down and start writing the next chapter.

A quick response to one of the comments - keep in mind that Palpatine was not physically on Dagobah, any more than Vader was during Luke's experience in the tree, nor was he contacting Mara through the Force, though clearly he has the ability to do so. What they both saw was a manifestation of the Force, based on their own thoughts and fears, as well as what may yet be in the future.

Hope you all enjoy the next chapter.

**Chapter 10**

Luke Skywalker knelt in the small clearing outside the tree, his arms wrapped around his companion where she had slumped to the ground. Her distraught weeping filled his ears and dulled his senses to the world around as he focused only on her. Her emergence from the tree only moments before, stumbling from the small opening in a panic and then sprinting across the clearing, heedless of where she was going, had astonished him. What she had witnessed in the tree had affected her badly, far worse, it appeared, than what he had seen himself during his sojourn into the depths of the Dark Side all those months ago. He had never seen her in such a state - her control over her emotions, her unflappability and calmness so much a part of her demeanor.

What had she seen in there to affect her to this extent?

He thought back to his own experience in the tree, the shock of seeing his own face inside Darth Vader's mask, the confusion over exactly what it meant. Of course he had not fully understood it at the time - understanding had ultimately come with a price. Could the Force have shown her a fate, a future so dire it had blasted her composure and reduced her to the weeping young woman who even now clung to him as though she never meant to let go?

Whatever it was she had seen, it had frightened her greatly and he also sensed grief and loss in her emotions, although loss for what he could not say as her shields remained as high and impenetrable as ever.

Uncertain what he could do for her, Luke decided the best thing would be to simply be there for her and allow her the luxury of a shoulder to cry on, the comfort of a friend. He held her in his arms, his hand gently tracing circles on her back, as he murmured what he hoped were comforting words into her ear, willing her to calm on her own. Perhaps the two of them could discuss whatever she had seen and come to some understanding of it - at least enough to allow her some peace of mind. Master Yoda always said knowledge was the best way to combat fear of the unknown.

Eventually, after a period of only minutes, though it had seemed like hours, her sobs quieted and she leaned more heavily into him, clinging to him like he were some phantom which would disappear if she were to let him go. She was quiet and still and if he had not been able to sense the continued turmoil of her mind, he may have thought she had fallen asleep.

Abruptly, however, she shrank back from him, furiously scrubbing at her eyes, trying to wipe away the evidence of her weakness. She stood and took a few steps away from him, to Luke's eyes, obviously trying to gather herself to face him. Once again he wondered what exactly she had seen and why she now appeared to be so uncertain of their relationship.

"Arica," he began, "what happened in there? What did you see?"

She whirled on him and gazed at him angrily, her breathing still dominated by great gulps of air. She visibly took a deep breath and calmed herself before answering.

"I'd rather not talk about it."

Luke took her appearance in, but chose to ignore the warning signs - this was much too important.

"Arica, it would be better..."

"_Better!_" she shrieked, her face contorting in anger. "What would _you_ know about better? You're the one who brought me to this hellish hole in the first place!"

Taken aback by her vehement tone, Luke shrank from her anger, hurt at the accusation in her voice. She immediately sensed his confusion and hurt and she seemed to visibly gather herself.

"Look Skywalker," she began after breathing in several large, calming gulps of air, her tone calmer and less accusing than it had been a moment before. "I'm sorry. I know you mean well, but I'd really prefer not to talk about this now - I need to think about it first. Try to understand what just happened."

He could see through it though, knew her air of calm and controlled rationality was merely a façade, that underneath the emotions and fears careening though her mind were tightly controlled and suppressed. Knowing the dangers of indefinitely suppressing such intense feelings prompted Luke to attempt once more to reason with her. "Wouldn't it be better to unburden yourself on a friend? Maybe we can figure it out together."

She shook her head vehemently. "I'd really rather... not talk about it. Let me think about it on my own... then maybe we can discuss it."

Luke suspected she would prefer not to tell him at all, but even in the short time he had known her, he had begun to know the warning signs. Now was not a good time to argue the point with her - she had made her decision and pressing the issue now would only make matters worse.

"If that's what you want, Arica. Just remember - I'm here for you whenever you want to talk about it."

Her face was unreadable, but underneath the front she put up, Luke felt a slight shift in her emotions. He knew she appreciated his offer, although she was still frightened of telling him what she had seen.

"I think we've done all we can on this mud ball of a planet," she said, abruptly changing the subject. "I'd really like it if we left this place far behind."

"All right, Arica," Luke responded, sensing this would be for the best. "Let's leave then - it is about time to get back to the fleet anyway."

* * *

"Alliance Command, this is Commander Luke Skywalker in the _Emerald Justice_, requesting clearance and approach vector for docking with _Home One_."

"Acknowledged, Commander, please transmit your clearance code."

Reaching over to the keypad, Luke began to key in his personal code, catching a glimpse of Arica watching him as she observed their approach toward the massive rebel fleet.

The fleet was an awesome, majestic sight which sent shivers up his spine and engendered a feeling of pride and confidence in the cause. Never before in the history of the Rebellion had the full might of the Alliance fleet been gathered together in one location to be thrown into one titanic clash against the Emperor's forces. It was an enormous gamble, one which may ultimately represent the end of the rebellion, but to do nothing would almost certainly spell the Alliance's end, albeit in a much slower fashion. The new Death Star would not have the same weakness of the original and if it was allowed to be completed, it would not be stopped and many more lives would be forfeit. Clearly, inaction was not an option.

"_Emerald Justice, _you are clear to dock with _Home One,_ docking bay 11. Coordinates and approach vector are being transferred to you now."

Luke studied the information appearing on his screen momentarily. "Thank you, control, Skywalker out."

Moments later they had landed in the hanger bay of the giant star cruiser and Luke was running through the power down sequences. His co-pilot said nothing, seeming content to simply assist with the work of shutting the small shuttle's engines down and preparing to leave.

She had not said much in the past two days, Luke reflected, not since her fateful trip into the tree and whatever had scared her so badly. She had kept to herself the first day, refusing to speak with him, or have any contact at all. She had stayed in the small cabin, lost deeply in thought he suspected, but whether she was trying to understand and assimilate what she had seen, or was brooding about something else entirely, Luke could not quite tell.

The second day she had opened up to a certain extent, allowing contact and conversation, but only as it related to the Force and the training he continued to attempt to impart to her. All other subjects were now taboo; she seemed determined to keep him at arm's length - all the previous progress they had made in understanding one another, not to mention the closeness they had developed, had completely evaporated.

Luke was puzzled - he would have expected the tree to show her things which would be difficult for her to see, much as he had seen himself, but he could not imagine what she had seen which would cause her to draw away from him so completely. And to make matters worse, Luke had felt a tickling on the edge of his senses ever since they had left Dagobah - almost a premonition of the future, although as of yet he had not received any specific visions or promptings from the Force. Since he had left Dagobah and his training behind to rescue his friends, he had shied away from such visions, although at times they came on their own, as the one in Jabba's palace had. Now, however, he tried to remain receptive to them, knowing he would need every weapon in his arsenal if he was to defeat the Emperor.

"So what happens now?" a soft voice eased him from his thoughts.

He glanced to the side at his companion, noticing her intent look on him, more like the woman he had known before the tree than the one who had shared the ship for the past two days.

"We need to find Leia and Han," he responded. "They will know what is going on and what our next move is. Actually, unless I miss my guess, they have already been told of our arrival."

Arica nodded slightly and peered out the front window of the ship to the docking bay waiting outside.

"Arica," Luke began hesitantly, "I appreciate you bringing me here, but if you would prefer not to become involved with the Alliance, now is your last chance to leave."

She glanced back at him, arching an eyebrow at his statement. "I'm surprised, Skywalker. I would have thought you rebel types would be far more likely to try to recruit people, rather than trying to drive them away."

"I just want you to understand what you're getting yourself into," Luke responded, refusing to react to her playful tone of voice.

"Believe me, Skywalker - I know what I'm getting into. But you're not getting rid of me that easily."

Luke nodded simply and flashed her a brief smile. "All right then, let's get out of here."

Outside the ship, the welcoming committee was gathered, but those Luke would have expected to see assembled to greet them were conspicuously absent. At the foot of the ramp, a lone junior officer waited as they descended down to the deck of the bay.

"Commander Skywalker," the young man began with a salute, "I have been instructed to inform you the High Command is meeting to discuss the upcoming offensive. You are to join them in the main debriefing room."

"Thank you, we will proceed there directly."

"I'm sorry Commander, but I wasn't told anything about your companion. Perhaps it would be better if she waited here."

"Thank you, but that won't be necessary," Luke responded a little testily, even though he knew the man was just doing his job. "I will vouch for my companion and take full responsibility for her conduct."

Motioning to Arica, Luke stepped past the man and entered the corridor which would lead to the conference room where the briefing was taking place. Arica's soft footfalls reached his ears as she hurried to keep up with him.

"Are all you rebels so... distrustful?"

Luke glanced at her distractedly. "Every man and woman here is wanted by the Empire. Wouldn't you be?"

"Touché. I suppose I would be at that."

"Luckily, I outranked him - rank does have its privileges. The officer was only trying to do his job and I took no offense."

She was silent for several moments while they continued. He sensed she wanted to say something, but did not quite know how to phrase whatever was on her mind.

"Will you get in trouble for bringing me into this?"

Luke considered the question. Undoubtedly there would be some who would object to her presence, not as a recruit to the Alliance - it was a well known fact they were always trying to add to their ranks - but as a stranger brought into one of the highest and most secret councils. Indeed, he himself would have objected if another were to do the same.

But something felt right about this. Although he continued to be completely in the dark about her past and her background, he knew instinctively he could trust her - something which the Force confirmed. The Force was also telling him that whatever was to happen, his fate and hers were inextricably linked, that she would have her part to play in the final battle with the Empire. It made no logical sense, but he knew she was needed. Whatever the reaction from the Alliance leadership, he knew he had no choice but to follow the promptings of the Force. Master Yoda had drilled that into his head, quite thoroughly.

"I suppose it's possible," he began slowly, thinking his way through the situation. "We don't normally bring newcomers into our highest councils, but something tells me you need to be there."

Arica stopped abruptly and she stared at him. "Are you certain?"

"As certain as I can be. You have your part to play in all this, Arica. I don't know what or how, but your destiny was set the moment you decided to stay with me and train, regardless of the danger of being with the Alliance."

"You're putting a lot of trust in me. You've only known me for a week - there are bound to be some who will point that out."

Luke shrugged. "Let them. Master Yoda taught me to be mindful of the promptings of the Force and that is exactly what I am doing. The Alliance Command knows I have been training to be a Jedi; they will come around."

"I hope you know what you're doing," she muttered, as he began walking down the corridor once again.

Luke could only agree.

* * *

The briefing room was large and circular, benches lined the chamber, each successive row lower than the last, down to the bottom circle. In the exact center of the room stood a large holoprojection unit, which currently displayed an image of the uncompleted Death Star. The meeting had just begun.

Not wanting to disrupt the proceedings, Luke motioned Arica to the side of the entrance, where they stood and watched Mon Mothma, and then Admiral Ackbar, explain the plan of assault on the massive station. The plan was daring, yet simple, a reflection of the brilliant mind of the Mon Calamari Admiral, and Luke immediately understood the significance of the intelligence gained by the Bothan spies. The Emperor was on board the station - there would never be a better chance to strike directly at the heart of the Empire. And by extension, if the Emperor were on the station, Vader could not be far away.

The thought of his father engendered uncomfortable feelings and memories; Luke shook his head slightly to banish the thoughts and caught sight of his companion. She was focused, her attention rapt upon the explanation of the battle plan as it was explained on the floor below. Luke had never seen her so focused or keenly interested as she appeared now.

A slight feeling of unease burrowed its way into Luke's consciousness as he considered her profile, but Luke shook it off as a fancy and nothing more. Of course she would want to know everything she could about the coming battle as it would affect her no less than anyone else in the room.

Trying to concentrate on the plan unfolding before him, Luke opened himself up to the influence of the Force, trying to sense his path in the coming battle. In the past his duty would have been clear - as commander of Rogue Squadron, he would have led his companions into battle as the spearhead of the Alliance forces.

But circumstances had changed in the past six months and Luke was now no longer certain his place was with the fighter wing. His talents may be of use in some other capacity.

The topic abruptly changed and the discussion shifted to the plan to land on Endor and deactivate the deflector shield protecting the space station; Luke heard a whisper from the Force and he suddenly knew where he belonged. For whatever reason, the Force wanted him on that moon and he knew he had to obey the prompting.

"Arica, do you trust me?"

The redhead turned on him in surprise. "That's a strange question to be asking at a time like this. Why do you ask?"

Luke gestured down to the discussion, which was just now turning to the announcement of Han as the assault team's general. "I have to go with them to Endor. Before you ask, no I don't know why, but I think you should go along as well. Do you trust me?"

"You know I do," she replied simply. "If that's where we need to go, then that's where we'll go."

Flashing a grateful smile, Luke turned his attention back to the floor, where Leia was now signaling her intent to be part of the command team for the mission. Luke motioned for Arica to follow and stepped out into the room.

"We're with you too," he said while descending the stairs, Arica beside him.

A cheer went up in the room and Leia stood and rushed to him, throwing her arms around him with delight. For the first time, he held her in his arms, knowing she was his sister and finally being able to put a name to the feeling he had felt the whole time of their acquaintance and at last, he felt as though he was home.

* * *

"I'd still like to know what you were thinking when you brought that woman into a classified briefing."

The general's voice was raised in anger and accusatory in tone, but Luke made no response - they had already discussed this. He had never liked Madine. Certainly the man was competent, or even brilliant, but he had always struck Luke as arrogant and taciturn, sometimes bordering on uncivil. Of course, many Imperial defectors seemed to have the same attitude, although there were certainly exceptions to the rule - several pilots were also defectors, including one of the Rogues, and among them there were those whom he considered among his closest friends.

"We've already been through this," Ackbar spoke up in his gravelly voice. "Now we must decide what to do."

Madine shrugged while throwing a disapproving glance in Luke's direction. "Throw her in the brig until after the battle."

"Perhaps it isn't that easy," Mon Mothma spoke up, her voice soft, but her eyes were focused on Luke. "Jedi Skywalker tells us her presence is necessary and I learned long ago not to discount the advice given by the Jedi."

"Begging your pardon ma'am, but I don't hold with this mystical Jedi tripe," Madine disagreed. "The fact is we are about to go into the most important engagement of this war and we can't afford to have a potential security risk included in a guerilla mission of this importance."

"Arica is not a security risk," Luke responded softly.

"How do you know? By your own admission you have only known her a week. How day you be so certain?"

"The Force confirms it."

"I'm sorry, _Commander_, but I'm afraid I can't allow the Force to influence our military decisions."

"The Jedi order of old was trusted and their advice was heeded. Why am I any different?"

"And look where it got them?" Madine shot back. "For that matter, the situation the galaxy is in because of the failure of the Jedi. And just because you wear a lightsaber doesn't make you a Jedi, no matter where you've been these past months."

"With all due respect, General," Luke responded, his tone icy, "I certainly don't believe the fall of the Old Republic was entirely the Jedi order's responsibility."

"Maybe not, but they are all extinct now, aren't they? And this in spite of their magical powers." Madine waved his hands in the approximation of a charlatan performing his tricks before an audience. "It's all a lot of parlor tricks and sleight of hand."

"Don't be too certain, General," Han spoke up quietly. "I used to think the same, but I've seen enough of what Luke can do that I can't discount the existence of the Force."

"Of course _you_ would support him, Solo," Madine responded with some rancor. "Your friendship is well known."

"Maybe so. But I'm also known as being very practical, not to mention skeptical. The first time the Kid came on my ship I gave him and Kenobi a bad time about the Force and ridiculed their devotion to what I called an 'ancient religion'. But things have changed since then. I don't know nothing about his mystical energy field, but Luke's surprised me one too many times to ignore him now."

"This arguing is not getting us anywhere," Mothma interjected into the exchange. "General Solo, what is your opinion about allowing this Arica to become a member of the assault team?"

Han glanced at Luke and directed his attention back to the leader of the rebellion. "I don't know Arica well, it's true, but I'll trust Luke's judgment. If he thinks she's trustworthy, then that's good enough for me."

"What about her suitability for a covert mission?" Ackbar asked. "It's going to be rough down there; can she handle it?"

Han shifted in his seat uncomfortably, before responding. "I can tell you she can use a blaster and she seems competent to me. But besides all that, Luke says he's been training her to be a Jedi. I have a good idea of his skills; another Jedi on this mission would be helpful."

"General, please leave Jedi skills out of this," Madine interjected once again. "We must concentrate on the facts here. We can't let her go along on this mission - it would be unconscionable!"

"On the contrary, General," Mothma spoke again, "I have every confidence in the abilities of the Jedi and if Jedi Skywalker believes she is ready and needed on this mission, then I think we should allow it."

Madine stared at her, aghast at what she was saying. "Princess, what is your opinion?" she continued, not waiting for Madine to protest again.

The one member of the chamber who had thus far been silent said nothing in response immediately, caught up as she was in her own thoughts. Knowing her as his sister, however, seemed to give him greater insight to her feelings, and although he could sense a certain something in them, an emotion he could not quite make out though he knew she was struggling with it, she seemed to him to have no great opposition to his insistence on Arica's presence on the mission. She seemed more resigned than anything.

"I will also admit, I do not know Arica at all," she responded at last. "But I feel I must agree with Han on this. We all know Luke's instincts are unparalleled and if he is convinced Arica is trustworthy, then I believe him."

"Admiral Ackbar?" Mothma addressed the Mon Calamari. "As overall commander of this operation, I feel the final decision must be yours."

The admiral regarded the others impassively, his alien countenance giving away nothing. Although Ackbar had always supported Luke and his quest to learn more of the Jedi and his heritage, Luke also knew he was a staunch proponent of the Alliance and would do everything in his power to assure the success of the mission and of the war. If he deemed that included throwing a young woman in a prison cell because he believed her to be a security risk, he would not hesitate to order it.

"The Mon Calamari also remember and honor the Jedi," he spoke up at last. "I sincerely hope their influence has not left the galaxy and that you can resurrect the order. I agree with Mothma; if Jedi Skywalker believes Arica is needed on this mission, then I will allow it."

"Thank you, Admiral," Luke responded, letting out in relief a breath he had not even known he had been holding.

"Just remember; you will be walking into a heavily defended enemy installation and the fighting will be intense. Your companion must take responsibility for her own safety."

"I understand, Admiral. She knows enough not only to defend herself, but will also be an asset to the mission."

"In that case, unless there is anything else, I think we can adjourn," Mothma said, while rising to her feet.

Madine cast a withering glare in Luke's direction and abruptly stomped from the room in a huff. Luke, not caring at all for his opinion or his approval, rose as well and turned to his friends.

"Thanks for the assist, Han," Luke said, as Leia made her exit from the room.

"Hey, no problem, kid. I kind of like her anyway. Besides which, I trust you."

"Jedi Skywalker," Mothma said as she approached them, "you mentioned a Jedi master you had been training with. Who was it?"

"Master Yoda."

"Yoda?" she said, her eyes widening in surprise. "I had thought he had died during the purges. You know, I actually met him as a young woman. Such a small being, but you knew you were talking with someone special when he spoke - a wise and great Jedi Master."

"Yes, he was," Luke said, his eyes glazing over in memory.

"Was?" she responded, the smile leaving her face.

Luke felt a lump in his throat as he was reminded of the great Jedi's recent passing. "Master Yoda died when I visited him only a few days ago."

Mothma's eyes clouded over as she absorbed this information. "Then he will be missed," she intoned solemnly. "I believe, however, he could not have bestowed his teachings on and entrusted the future of the Jedi to a more worthy recipient. I believe both he and Kenobi would be proud of the Jedi and the man you have become."

"Thank you," Luke responded, overcome by emotion and unable to say anything else.

Mothma studied them intently for a moment, before continuing. "Make certain you succeed," she directed her words at both of them. "The entire Alliance is depending on you."

She turned and retreated from the room, leaving Han and Luke behind as the two friends exchanged a look.

"No pressure, huh?" Han quipped.

"None at all," Luke responded in like vein, pushing the familiar sorrow over the loss of his mentor to the back of his mind.

"Then, I guess it's pretty much business as usual."

"I don't know, Han," Luke drawled in response. "It doesn't seem _that _bad to me."

Han laughed and slapped Luke on the back, directing him out of the room. "Come on, Kid, I could use something large, alcoholic and preferably Corellian."

* * *

The waiting was the hardest part. Not knowing for certain exactly what was being discussed and what her ultimate fate would be was a close second.

Skywalker's announcement had been met with cheers as the rebellion's elite had welcomed one of their greatest heroes back on the eve of battle, but Mara would have had to be blind not to notice the look of consternation which had crossed the general's face as she had entered the briefing room at Skywalker's side. When she had been introduced to the highest ranking officers of the Alliance that expression had turned to one of utter fury and he had demanded to see Skywalker and the other leaders in a private conference. Of course, Mon Mothma and the Mon Calamari admiral had not been exactly thrilled to see her either

She knew of all of them, of course, especially the general; her files on him were extensive - creator and original commander of the infamous Storm Commandos, General Crix Madine was at once revered and respected as a brilliant and innovative military leader and reviled for being traitor and defector to the Rebellion. He was one of the few for whom she had standing orders to eliminate with extreme prejudice if she was ever to cross his path. Of course, her current orders regarding Skywalker superseded that directive.

For what seemed like the hundredth time, Mara rose from her seat and began pacing the room agitatedly like a nervous kath hound worrying a bone. She could not hear what was going on in the room - the walls were too thick and secure for that, but she could sense Skywalker's agitated state and feel his frustration through his shields. Either the general was angering Skywalker with his objections to her presence or the meeting was not going well and they would not allow her to go on the mission.

At that thought, Mara exhaled loudly, a sigh of frustration and helplessness, and threw herself back into the chair, her chin resting against a hand as she brooded over the situation. She should never have let Skywalker talk her into this. If they did not let her go on the mission, small chance they would let her simply depart on the eve of the largest and most important offensive of the war. No, if she was not allowed to go, then she would be kept under house arrest at best, thrown into the brig at worst, and she would have failed her mission. Her master was not about to accept or excuse any explanations of extenuating circumstances. No, for him all that would matter was the fact that she had not shown up with Skywalker at the appointed time. The mission would be a complete failure and she would be punished as such - if she even survived the battle in which for all the Rebellion's firepower, it was surely no match for the might of the Imperial Navy. She was certain her master, experienced and cunning as he was, would not be caught completely unawares by this surprise attack on his most prized project.

And if they did let her go along with Skywalker... She had begun to come up with a vague idea, an answer to her dilemma, a way for her to avoid the one thing she wanted most to avoid - telling Skywalker of her affiliation with his greatest enemy.

A chance to forever erase her past.

Her conscious mind still shied away from the thought of betraying her master, but if there was a way of doing it and never having to meet him to face the consequences, would she not take it?

When the door opened and brought her abruptly from her reverie, she glanced up to see the general stalking from the room, after directing a thunderous glare in her direction. He was followed shortly by the Mon Calamari admiral who also said nothing as he hurried out the room in pursuit of the angry general.

It was only then Mara allowed herself to breathe a sigh of relief - the general's demeanor coupled with the fact she had not immediately been clapped in chains told her all she needed to know.

When the princess walked through the doorway, she paused as if considering and then deliberately made her way to confront Arica, who stood up, half in defiance, half in apprehension of what the other would say. The difference in Organa from the last time they had met was striking; the commanding presence of the diminutive Alderaanian was something she had never witnessed while on Tatooine. Although she was about the same size as the princess, she felt as if the other towered above her and in that instant, Mara knew how this woman had been able to become the youngest senator in the history of the galaxy and inspire millions in the fight against the Empire.

For a moment, Organa said nothing, merely staring at Mara with an appraising look on her face, until Mara began to feel like a Twi'lek slave on display.

"Somehow, he trusts you," she said suddenly, her voice introspective, as though she had almost forgotten she was speaking to Mara. "He's only known you for a few days, but he trusts you and believes in you. Sometimes I wish I could see things the way he does - believe with the same conviction, hold the same surety, feel the promptings of the Force. But I can't. And I'm not certain what he sees in you."

The observation jolted Mara and helped her overcome the feeling of awe which had overtaken her - she was not about to be judged by the other woman. "And he sees more in you perhaps? You don't even _know_ me, Leia; I'd prefer you didn't judge me."

Whereas Mara would have expected the other woman to take offense at her testy words, Organa merely cocked her head to the side and gazed back at Mara, her visage a little less severe. "I suppose it must appear to you like I'm judging you and I don't blame you for feeling that way. The truth of the matter is I'm just protective of him - we all are."

Her manner of expressing herself softened Mara's attitude slightly, but she still was not completely mollified. "Does he need you to look after him? He _is_ a grown man after all."

Leia chuckled. "No, I suppose he doesn't. But you didn't see him when he first walked into the detention center on the Death Star. I honestly don't think I've ever seen anyone quite as naive as he was - he was so green, he almost looked like a Twi'lek!"

Involuntarily, Mara found herself responding to the wry way Leia had of talking about Skywalker - she could well imagine the way he had appeared as a teenager. Even now although she knew that he had changed in the years since that first experience with the Rebellion, there was still something open and trusting in his manner. And after she had spent more than a week in his company, she found his openness difficult to comprehend, so far removed was it from what she had grown up with and learned to expect from those of the Emperor's court with whom she had interacted.

"I guess it's become sort of a habit for all of us," Organa continued after a moment's pause. "Luke is a rare, special person and those of us he calls his friends are very protective of him, as I'm certain you've already noticed. But the thing about Luke is, he is usually right about people - if he considers a person worthy of trust, then that person can be trusted, whereas one he instinctively distrusts can be looked on with suspicion. I always put it down to his judgment of character before, but now I realize it is also due to a heavy dose of the Force."

"Does that mean you trust me then?"

"I don't know I'd go that far," the princess responded, with a smile on her face and a twinkle in her eye.

Mara found herself responding with a smile. She had never felt this way. This simple camaraderie and friendship which existed between these people was something with which she had no experience, but it warmed her and penetrated her soul. She felt giddy and lightheaded, and wanted to know more; she wanted to know what it was like to be a part of a group, to be trusted and liked for who she was.

She knew in that instant no matter what was to happen, she could not hand Skywalker over to the Emperor - to do so would be a betrayal to him, his friends, the men and women of the Rebellion who looked upon him as a hero. Most of all, it would be a betrayal of herself, of the life she had never lived, but now so desperately wanted. Betraying her master was no small thing, but she now understood why she had always felt so ill at ease doing her master's bidding, why she had always longed for a life outside the blood and the horrible things she was forced to do as his lackey.

Not for the first time she wondered where she had come from, how she had come to be in the Emperor's service. He had never even tried to give her an explanation of her background, only stating she was his servant now and she had best remember her place and do her duty. But at some point, she must have been part of a family, had parents who had loved her, friends her own age. How had she come to leave that comfortable existence?

"It's hard for you, isn't it?"

Startled, Mara's eyes focused once more on the Alderaanian princess, who was regarding her with a compassionate expression on her face.

"From what you've told us of your background, it sounds as though you have spent most of your life by yourself. Sometimes it can be difficult to accept others in your circle when you have been alone so long."

Mara swallowed, her throat suddenly dry, a stinging in her eyes marring her vision. "It is... hard. I've never had anyone I could call a... a friend. Even when my... mother... was alive, she was cold and distant... Sometimes it felt like I was alone, even when she was there."

"Then, that is something we need to change."

Startled, Mara's eyes flew to the entrance to the conference room, where Skywalker stood, gazing back at her with compassion and affection. Behind him, Solo stood watching the scene, his appearance one of open friendship rather than the usual slightly knowing and occasionally smarmy expression he usually sported.

Skywalker approached her, his smile never wavering. "You're among friends now, Arica. There is no reason for you to ever feel alone again."

Mara felt tears pooling in her eyes at his words and managed a tremulous smile in response. Sensing her emotions, or perhaps reading them on her face, Skywalker reached out and grasped her shoulders, squeezing them in comfort before turning back to his companions. And Mara, still uncomfortable with the emotions coursing through her, nevertheless basked in the warmth and friendship she felt between these people, hoping for the day when she would be included in their feelings for one another.

* * *

The main cantina on board Home One was loud and boisterous. Clouds of smoke drifted lazily though the open rooms, creating a hazy atmosphere, eerily reminiscent of Dagobah on a misty morning. Revelers packed the rooms cheering and egging each other on to greater feats of drinking - undoubtedly the medical bays would be full of revelers, the droids kept busy undoing the effects of a night's hard drinking. But to Luke, who had had occasion to join these impromptu parties in the past, underneath the carousing and merrymaking, there existed an almost desperate, fearful quality - the partiers were determined to make the most of the night, for tomorrow assault on the Death Star would commence in earnest and the Alliance would be throwing the entire might of their star fleet against the half finished battle station. For many of those in attendance this evening, this would be their last party - many would not return. A part of Luke missed those days, the camaraderie, the danger and excitement, the anticipation of the coming struggle.

But those times were now long gone - gone as surely as his youth and innocence. He was older now, carried responsibilities heavier than he had ever dreamed possible. If it had not been for a request from one of his closest friends, he knew he would now be in his room, meditating, seeking the Force for guidance, worrying about the upcoming confrontation and trying not to think of his relationship with a certain Sith Lord... or a certain redhead.

Luke grinned to himself at the thought of Arica - at least she was well taken care of at the moment. He had left her in the capable hands of his sister - Arica still somewhat uneasy at the camaraderie between the friends, Leia genuinely trying to get to know her better now that she appeared to be here to stay. Of course, Lando had also made an appearance and had offered to accompany the two women to dinner. Luke was surprised to see less of the suave, somewhat oily lady's man and more of the genuinely affable fellow he had come to consider a friend. He had, however, not been able to resist a couple of comments about the status of Luke's relationship with the fiery redhead, comments which were sly and filled with innuendo, but also with good-natured humor. At least, mercifully, the comments had been made out of the range of Arica's hearing. He really liked this Lando better than the other, although being the butt end of his jokes was sometimes a little irksome.

Shaking his head at the thought of his irreverent friend, Luke turned his attention to his surroundings and began to make his way through the hazy room. A group of pilots from another squadron caught his attention and beckoned for him to join them, but Luke merely smiled and nodded at them, while he continued to focus on finding his friend.

A moment later he had arrived. Han Solo sat alone at a table - a surprise really, considering the denseness of the revelers. In his left hand he held a drink - some Corellian concoction no doubt, given Han's preferences - and despite the noise around him, his eyes were unfocussed as he sightlessly stared off at something only he could see.

Han glanced up as Luke sat down and gave his usual hearty greeting, which was returned by the younger man, but while he appeared to be trying to give the impression of normality, Luke could tell something serious was on Han's mind. The other offered to get him a drink, and when the order was placed and the drink delivered, they fell into an awkward silence. It was a concern to Luke as he had rarely seen his friend like this.

"So, Luke, what's with you and the redhead?" Han spoke suddenly, breaking the silence between them.

"I seem to remember you asking me this once before," Luke responded with a laugh.

"Yeah, and I seem to remember you ducking the question," Han shot back, his good-natured grin belying the sharp tone, the twinkle in his eye a contrast to the serious expression on his face.

"Why does there have to be anything between Arica and me?"

"I don't know kid - you tell me. All I know is I've been trying to figure you two out ever since you got back and I'm not having a lot of luck."

"What's to figure out? I'm training her to be a Jedi."

Han shook his head, then leaned forward and eyed Luke earnestly. "Look kid, I don't have this fancy Force you always talk about, but I have eyes in my head and I can tell there is more going on between you two than just training."

Luke suspected Han may be right, but since he was having difficulty determining in his own mind exactly what was between himself and the redhead, he knew he did not want to talk about it in any great detail - even with his best friend. In fact, he especially did not want to discuss it with Han, due to the Corellian's predilection for turning everything into a joke.

"Look, Han, I'm not certain what you think you see, but I can assure you there is nothing out of the ordinary between Arica and me."

"Look, Kid, she stares at you with a perplexed look on her face and sometimes I wonder if she's going to kiss you or pull that little blaster on you. And you - you're no better. You wander around with that lost little bantha cub expression and when you look at her, there's no doubt in my mind you feel something for her."

Knowing Han was very perceptive and being on the receiving end of Han's razor sharp observations was something completely different - it was unnerving and served only to irritate Luke. Whatever was between Arica and him was their business and the constant ribbing from Han, worried looks from Leia and Lando's knowing, smarmy witticisms were starting to get on the young man's nerves.

"I've only known her for a week - what do you think can have happened in so short a time?" he responded somewhat testily.

"This coming from the guy who was already daydreaming about Leia a half hour after we got off the Death Star," Han retorted. "'I care,'" he mimicked, echoing Luke's words spoken in the cockpit of the _Falcon_ with a certain amount of sarcasm.

The words brought a smile to Luke's face, reminded by his younger self and the innocent, carefree days of his youth. Of course, he had been infatuated with the woman who had turned out to be his twin sister - something which filled him with a certain amount of shame, although he certainly could not have known of their relationship at the time.

But although a smile had come to Luke's face, Han scowled back at him. "Luke, for once in my life I'm being serious here. I would appreciate it if you would do the same."

Slightly surprised at the side of Han he had never really glimpsed before, Luke returned the other's gaze, wondering why his friend was behaving in such a manner - his attitude here was confusing Luke. Han was not Force sensitive - in fact he was just about as far from Force sensitive as one could be - but Luke had long ago learned not to equate Force sensitivity with being able to read another being. Some he had come across were like open books, their thoughts and feelings available to be read at any time he chose, while some, like Han, were closed and took much more effort on his part to read; not that he would ever misuse his abilities in such a way. And conversely, although he was almost completely Force blind, Han's ability to read others sometimes bordered on the uncanny, sometimes surpassing Luke's abilities, even _with_ the aid of the Force. Could Han possibly have seen something in Luke's behavior toward Arica, which Luke had been too blind to see for himself?

"I'm not sure what you want me to tell you," Luke began hesitantly. "I can't tell you what is between Arica and me, because I don't really know myself. I've come to believe she's an amazing person, but she's still a closed book to me - she won't tell me very much about herself and although I sense no danger from her, the fact that she won't open up to me is troubling. And yet I find myself trusting her - I can't really explain it."

Han looked thoughtful as Luke haltingly tried to explain his relationship with the enigmatic Arica. No doubt he had experience in his past with a woman of Arica's type - sometimes it seemed to Luke as though there was very little Han had _not_ experienced in his life.

"Han, why is my relationship with Arica so important?" Luke continued when Han stayed silent. "What does it have to do with you?"

"With me, nothing. I just don't want to see Leia hurt."

Now Luke was confused. "Leia?"

"Yeah, Leia," Han responded belligerently. "You know - short, brunette, princess? Leia, for crying out loud! The one you and I have been dancing around the last four years."

"I know who Leia is, Han," Luke responded with some exasperation, but still little understanding of Han's point. "What about her? What does she have to do with it?"

The look Han directed at him made Luke feel dense. "I can tell you're still crazy in love with her. I just don't want her to get hurt if you choose Arica over her."

Luke nearly choked on his drink at that point. Was Han really suggesting Leia might choose him over Han? But if she had not told Han about their conversation on Tatooine, Han may still have the impression nothing had changed between the three of them. Or he may even think she might favor Luke now that he had had several months in her company without Han's interference. And of course Han could know nothing about Luke's familial relationship with Leia - Luke was the only one alive who knew about _that_ situation.

"Luke, I just don't want Leia to be hurt. I'll even step aside so you two can get together if that's what you want."

By now, Luke's earlier exasperation had changed to amusement. Han was clearly struggling with his feelings for Leia, which had always been strong, but his offer to put her needs above his own touched Luke - the transformation from the cocky, confident and selfish smuggler to a man in love, concerned first and foremost with the needs and desires of the woman he loved, was now complete. It was time to educate Han to the reality of the situation.

"I have to hand it to you, Han," he began with a grin, "you've certainly come a long way - from 'Either I'm going to kill her, or I'm beginning to like her' all the way to 'I'll step aside, if that's what's best for her'."

Han responded with his familiar grin. "Yeah, well don't let it get around. I have a reputation to uphold, you know."

Luke grinned in response, happy once again to the see the friend he had come to rely on and trust so much. He could think of no better person than Han to whom he could entrust his sister, no matter what may eventually happen in the days to come.

"Han, I want you to know that you have no competition from me. Leia and I... well, we are not meant for each other. Besides, you must know she's in love with you."

"Is this because of Arica showing up on the scene?"

"No, Han," Luke responded, shaking his head. "Leia and I spoke before I knew Arica even existed. We simply don't feel that way toward each other. I love Leia - always will - but I'm not 'in love' with her."

There was a long silence between the two friends, Han as he digested this new piece of information, Luke because he wanted to allow his friend to absorb what he had just been told without any interference.

"Are you sure about this, Luke?" Han finally responded. "I mean, you've been crazy about her for so long now... This is all kind of sudden, don't you thing?"

"As I said, we've already had our own conversation about this, Han. And yes I'm certain - I've felt this way for a long time now. I just recently put it together in my own mind, but I know Leia and I are not meant for each other. There's no one I'd rather see her with than you."

"Well, I guess there's only one thing to do then," Han drawled, the roguish smuggler returned and now firmly present in his demeanor. "We need to figure out how to get you and Red together."

Luke laughed. It was good to have Han back, he reflected; he had missed him all those months his friend had been in Jabba's clutches.


	12. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

Mara Jade looked over her meager possessions momentarily before sighing and closing her small travel bag, then sinking to the bed beside it. She was weary, the exhaustion of having spent the past three hectic days in one meeting or another, training and generally getting to know her new Alliance compatriots.

Not that she truly considered herself one of them. No, she had no love for the Alliance, any more than she had ever felt for her master, but they were a means to an end, a way for her to finally escape from under Palpatine's iron fist.

Lying back on the bunk, Mara closed her eyes and allowed herself to drift along the currents of the Force, something she had always had an affinity for, but now was even more proficient at due to the Jedi's patient tutelage. She smiled at the thought of the young man, so intense and serious, allowing herself to feel the true extent of her affection for him. She had never known what it was like to have a true friend until she had met him and now could only regret all the time she had missed as a child. He was everything she could imagine ever wanting in a friend and she found herself looking forward to the times they could be together, training, planning or just simply enjoying one another's company.

And through him, she found herself largely accepted by his friends and colleagues. The pilots, of whom he was so fond, had immediately embraced her as one of their own, in part assisted by the information that she was also a pilot. Of course, she had not let them know she had flown a fighter before - that was definitely not a part of her cover.

As a group, they seemed to be rowdy, given to boasting and all manner of pranks and loud laughter, and while she thought she would normally have found their behavior childish, she had found herself enjoying the experience. Of course, Skywalker was different from most of the rest of the group, being much quieter and less prone to their boisterous behavior. He was well-liked, even revered she thought, and the rest of the group seemed to take his eccentricities in stride.

Mara was the subject of much curiosity when she appeared on the scene, but that curiosity had turned to acceptance and more than a little admiration once she had come to know them. She had received more than one proposition from members of the fighter squadrons, hardly surprising, given their macho reputation. She had been pleasantly surprised, however, when none of those who had extended their invitations for company seemed angry or offended at her refusal - they had generally taken her refusal without rancor and she had not had reason to regret entering his circle of friends.

The past three days had been ones unlike any she had ever experienced before; the feeling of belonging to a group was welcome and unsettling at the same time. She had never been part of a group, unless you considered the Emperor's dancers, whom she had nominally been a part of as a facet of her cover. But she knew she had never really been an accepted member - the others, although afraid of ever speaking about it, had certainly known she was more than just a dancer, from her frequent absences from the Imperial court while on a mission, to the differences in temperament and ability between her and the others. She had some acquaintances among them, but no one she would consider a close friend. She had always been considered too much of an outsider to truly be one of the group.

And what was more, she had found herself responding to the people with whom she had come in contact - she could see herself warming up to them, basking in the attention she received, liking them in return. Now she had seen what it could be like to be a part of a group, she had difficulty accepting the idea of returning to her own barren, solitary and downright lonely existence. No, that had to be avoided at all costs.

Of course, not everyone had accepted her as readily as Skywalker's friends - most notably General Madine had never really accepted her while his objections to her involvement in the mission had continued unabated. The day after the council meeting she had been visited by some soldiers and essentially put under arrest, although they had insisted she was being taken for questioning. It turned out Madine had persuaded the admiral that she should be questioned about her background and current affiliations at the very least.

Skywalker, displeased at the general's continued opposition, had caught wind of the detainment just before it had occurred. He had accompanied her and had spent twenty minutes in the General's office arguing with him, but to no avail. She suspected Skywalker was having second thoughts about his role in the Alliance military, which was now naturally superseded by his responsibilities as a Jedi, but for the time being he was a commander in that military and had no real authority to effect her release. Even a full Jedi attached to the Alliance would not have had that authority, she suspected.

She had been kept in the office for more than six hours, grilled by the general about her background, skills, affiliations and views on a variety of topics, some of which she considered of little relevance to the issue at hand. It had been clear from the start he had been trying to catch her in some inconsistency and establish she was lying so he could have grounds to bring up her inclusion in the mission with the admiral once again.

Mara, however, was not to be caught by so easy a stratagem. As she should have done in the first place, she had taken the time to expand upon and establish her cover story during the time she had spent in hyperspace and on Dagobah, although it had originally been intended to convince Skywalker of her sincerity, should he ever become suspicious of her honesty and question her further.

She had not expected to have to use the story to convince a general of the Alliance forces she was not an Imperial spy - although looking back on it now, she knew she should have expected it. What Skywalker had done - taking her into a classified debriefing and insisting she accompany a highly skilled guerilla squad on an assault against an enemy installation - was highly irregular and would have resulted in both her and the Jedi being thrown into a prison cell were he anyone other than whom he was. Madine, although known as a traitor, was certainly no fool; he was a brilliant military leader who was far too practical to believe in Jedi prescience. His objection was to be expected.

In fact, she knew that had this been the Imperial military, Skywalker would now be up for court martial, likely facing execution for such an act. Obviously, the Imperial military was far more disciplined than the Rebellion, not surprising considering the military ultimately reported up through the chain, directly to Vader and the Emperor, neither of whom were known for being tolerant of mistakes.

It was fortunate for the Alliance then, that she had no intention whatsoever of compromising this mission.

The thought of what she was about to do once again brought a nervous fluttering to her stomach and she stood up and began to pace the room in agitation. It was not every day that one decided to betray the most powerful - and most unforgiving - man in the galaxy.

Stopping in mid stride, Mara searched for her inner center once again, employing a technique Skywalker had taught her to calm herself, sooth her troubled nerves. After a few moments she was able to open her eyes and consider the situation rationally.

In actuality, she supposed, what she was about to do was more of a passive betrayal than anything else. She was deep under cover with the Alliance, included in a guerilla operation to take out an important Imperial installation. Her orders were to stay with Skywalker, get to know him and not to do anything which would compromise her situation until she was to accompany him to her master - an outcome her master had insisted would ultimately take place. Therefore, she had no choice but to act as a rebel and to do her best in assisting in this mission. Anything else and Skywalker would sense her duplicity and realize he had been lied to.

The beauty of her plan was, if the mission was successful, with the Emperor on the station, there was a good chance the Death Star would be destroyed and Emperor would die along with it. Thus, by assisting with the mission and doing everything she could to ensure the shield generator was destroyed and along with it the Death Star, she would ensure the ultimate meeting between Skywalker and her master would never take place and her identity would be protected.

The one unknown in her plan was the exact location and fate of Vader - he obviously knew of her existence and could conceivably inform Skywalker of her true identity. However, if the Death Star were to be destroyed, it was possible Vader could also perish in the battle and even if he did not, he could not know of her involvement with Skywalker, nor could he contact her like her master could. The Alliance could use a victory over the Imperial forces and destruction of the Death Star as a catalyst to finally take the initiative against the Empire, which could lead to ultimate victory. Vader was not her master - she was certain the Imperials would crumble if her master was removed from the scene.

Of course, all this was simply speculation. However, she knew the first - and most important - step was to free herself from her master and this was the best chance she was going to have to accomplish that goal. If she allowed Skywalker to be taken to the Emperor, while she did not know what fate he had planned for the young Jedi, she knew that for all his skills, he could not be a match for two powerful Force users like Vader and the Emperor. So she had no choice but to do all she could to prevent that outcome from ever occurring.

And then there was the tree to consider.

As always, the thought of what she had experienced while in the tree on Dagobah caused her to shudder, as if a Coruscant granite slug were crawling up her spine. She had never been subjected to such an experience in all her life and even now she was struggling to make sense of what she had witnessed and understand, not to mention come to terms with, the message it had imparted to her.

Not for the first time, she wished she could talk to Skywalker about it; ask for his opinion and understanding.

But that was impossible. If she told him of it, he would immediately be suspicious, especially of her seeing the Emperor no less, and all her carefully thought out plans would come to naught.

No, she had to trust in her own understanding of the event and find some way to make sense of what she had seen.

Knowing that ignoring the vision was no path to understanding, Mara forced herself to consider rationally what she had seen. At the time, the entire experience had seemed so real, so substantial, but now she was convinced that everything she had witnessed had been no more than a vision from the Force. Even the grotesque creature at the end could not have been real and the sensation of being chased, or the creature nipping at her heels with slavering jaws, ready to rend and tear, had to have been Force inspired.

But what did it mean?

Certainly there were parts of it which were easily understood. The Emperor and insistence in her lesser status, for example, had to be a means to test her will, force her to question her own worth. Of course, the fact that she was now set on this path was a testament to her belief of the specter's insistence in Skywalker's disgust with her if he knew of her involvement with the Emperor. She was convince he would not only hate her for deceiving him, but for all the things she had done as the Emperor's pet assassin. She could well imagine the look of disgust on his face should he ever learn of her true background; she was not certain if she could bear his anger and hatred.

Mara shook her head and willed the trembling which had erupted at the thought to quiet and forced herself to consider the other aspects of her experience. The image of herself, the cold, merciless distortion of her was obviously what she would become if she continued on the path she had been walking up to this point. She was now convinced her master was on the wrong side - everything confirmed it, from what she had witnessed of Skywalker, contrasted with what she knew her master to be, to the things the Emperor had commanded to do her in his service.

But what of the rest? Was the image of a Skywalker eerily reminiscent of her master a warning of what he would, or what he could become? Or was it just her fear - the fear of putting herself under the influence of another powerful Force user? Surely Skywalker was different from her master, was he not?

A knock at the door jolted her out of her thoughts and she sent her senses questing out, although she already knew who it was. Signaling through the Force her permission to enter, Mara rose to her feet as Skywalker entered the room.

"Arica, are you ready to go?"

She looked down at her small bag and smiled. "I only have this one small bag - most of which was given to me for this mission - so I guess you could say I'm ready to go."

He stood in the doorway for several moments, gazing at her, a tiny smile playing around the edges of his mouth. "Are you nervous?"

She found she was nervous, but not for the reasons he was thinking. "A little, I suppose."

"Don't be, it will be all right," he reassured with a smile. "We'd better get going - they're waiting for us."

Nodding, Mara reached down and grasped her bag, then reacting without thinking, she took the hand Luke was offering her and they exited the room.

Suddenly self-conscious, Mara peeked surreptitiously around the corridor, but there was no one in sight. She considered the hand she held in her own, calloused by years of hard labor and lightsaber practice, but still gentle and firm at the same time. It felt right to be this close to him, as though she was suddenly coming home after a long absence. She felt like she belonged.

On the other hand, she looked at his ensemble and curled her lip in distaste - black really did not suit him and he had worn little else since she had met him.

"So what's with the black?" she asked, a playful note in her voice. "Is it some kind of Jedi uniform? You should have told me - I may have been able to grab something from my ship."

Skywalker smiled down at her, taking in her battle fatigues covering a green jumpsuit. "No, it isn't a uniform - it's more of a reminder; a lesson for me. I still have unfinished business."

She regarded him, curious about his words. She should have known her felt this way, although he had never come out and spoken about it. It must be difficult to know your father was one of the most feared men in the galaxy, especially if you had thought he was dead for most of your life.

He glanced down at her again, the expression on his face making her heart flutter. "I think you'd look good in black."

Mara felt the color rising to her cheeks and looked away - the glance he had given her had been smoldering with barely suppressed desire. She glanced down at their entwined fingers, once again awed by the closeness she felt with him, knowing she had made the correct choice.

"Well, if you're trying to be like the old man, dressing in black is probably the best way to start."

It was the first thing that came to mind, desperate for something to fill the silence - and also the very worst thing she could have said. Its effect was immediate, as Skywalker stopped dead in his tracks and turned to stare at her in amazement, not to mention a rising anger, easily sensed through her strengthening bond with him.

Moving quickly to forestall the damage, wondering how she could have said it, Mara reached over and grasped his hand again, which had fallen out of hers when he had stopped. "Skywalker, I'm sorry - I shouldn't have said that."

"I am not my father," he responded, his voice quiet, but earnest.

"I know," she responded, gazing up into his eyes, willing him to accept her apology. "I wasn't implying you were. It was a stupid, thoughtless thing to say and I'm sorry."

He nodded his head and surreptitiously glancing around the corridor, he released her hand and once again began walking down the corridor, forcing her to catch up to him. "I know you didn't mean anything, Arica," he finally said after several moments. "I would appreciate it if you would keep such sentiments quiet. That particular... relationship is not exactly common knowledge. In fact, you are one of four people in the entire galaxy who knows of it."

Mara nodded and reached out to grasp his hand once again. "I will remember that."

He glanced down at her once again. While the shadow had lifted from his face, the previous mood seemed to have been destroyed by her thoughtless and unthinking words. There was a brooding quality to his presence now and Mara cursed herself for speaking without considering her words first.

The rest of the journey the hangar was completed in silence, Skywalker lost in his own thoughts, while Mara tried to figure out how she could make it better. Although they still held hands, the previous affection and emotion was replaced with tension.

* * *

The hyperspace trip to Endor was too long. Of course, taking only nineteen hours to cross the vast expanse of space, right down the Sanctuary Pipeline, into another part of the galaxy was a wonder in and of itself, one which defied all rational explanation. Luke could only look on those who had discovered hyperspace and designed the infinitely complicated hyperdrive with appreciation and salute their ingenuity and intelligence.

But in a practical sense, nineteen hours was exactly the wrong amount of time. A longer journey would have allowed some time to rest, time to relax and sleep, while a shorter time would have prevented the group from becoming keyed up and ready for action and then bored while they traveled through hyperspace without enough time to do some of the things which would have allowed them to arrive at the destination rested and ready.

However, it was what it was and there was no point worrying about what could or could not be - practically at their destination, the time had come to get to the business at hand.

As the proximity indicator began its brazen call, it seemed to Luke as though journey was coming to an end. One way or another, the situation with his father and the Emperor would be resolved here in this remote section of space, with either him emerging victorious, or more likely, dead.

"All right, everyone," Han said, his voice tense with apprehension, "it's show time."

Luke exchanged a glance with Mara and saw her roll her eyes. Privately, Luke enjoyed this side of Han - the ability to make light of serious situations - and merely grinned back at her in response. The look she returned nearly made him laugh out loud.

As Han pulled back on the lever, the shuttle once again hurtled out of the blue kaleidoscope of hyperspace, back into realspace and their destination. A planet loomed in the distance, a large, angry red gas giant, around which the heavily forested moon of Endor orbited. The moon itself was a great jewel suspended in space, its greens and blues an almost soothing backdrop against the troubles which embroiled the galaxy.

But even though it was much smaller than the two celestial bodies suspended in space, the Death Star, incomplete as it was, still dominated the area and arrested the sight of all who sat in the cockpit of the imperial shuttle. The superstructure was only two thirds complete, with the southern hemisphere of the station still a mass of incomplete girders and plasteel; construction droids and small ships swarmed around it like insects around their nest. The northern hemisphere of the station was largely complete on the outside at least, with the exception of one side of the massive structure, and clearly in the distance Luke could make out the massive concave dish which served as her primary weapon. It seemed to Luke a massive predator, jaws agape, ready to swallow those brave - or foolish - enough to stray too close.

In the seat to his left, Leia shuddered as the sight clearly reminded her of its predecessor and the destruction of the place she had called home for her first eighteen years. Luke reached out to her and squeezed her shoulder, receiving a grateful smile in return, while wondering himself exactly who was to comfort him. Having seen the previous Death Star up close, he knew exactly what faced the Alliance ships which would very soon enter hyperspace on course for this massive monstrosity. At least her weapons systems were not yet online.

"Looks like we've got company," Han muttered from the pilot's seat as he checked the instrument panel.

Wondering how he could have missed something so massive, Luke gazed at the awesome sight of the Executor, as the Imperial fleet's massive super star destroyer glided smoothly through space, its structure dwarfing the star destroyers which made up the bulk of the navy. As they glided closer and closer to the ship, a strange sense of foreboding began to fill Luke's heart and he wondered what it was about this ship which made him feel so uneasy.

"No point waiting around," Han muttered, his voice just audible. "Let's send this mission into hyperspace."

He glanced over at Chewie, who nodded and growled something unintelligible in response, and then reached over and activated the comm.

"Shuttle control, please come in."

"We have you on our screen now. Please identify."

"This is shuttle Tydirium, requesting deactivation of the deflector shield."

"Shuttle Tydirium, transmit the clearance code for shield passage."

Taking a deep breath, Han flipped a few switches which initiated the transmission of the code. "Transmission commencing."

Leia glanced over at Luke, a concerned expression on her face. "Now we find out if that code was worth the price we paid."

The rest of the group exchanged worried glances, but for Luke, the conversation in that cabin was distant, ethereal. The sight of the massive ship which had filled him with dread was looming nearer and nearer through the cockpit windows and no matter how Luke tried to tell himself it was nothing more than mere fancy, the Force confirmed his feelings. Whatever it was about the ship, Luke knew it was no passing fancy - whatever awaited them here had the potential to stop the mission in its tracks before they ever got started.

"Skywalker. What is it?"

But the sound of Arica's voice, taut with strain, was not enough to bring Luke from his trance-like consideration of the massive ship. The ship was a black stain on the face of the galaxy, a foreboding hole of epic proportions. Almost as though...

And suddenly he knew.

"Vader is on that ship."

The words were out of his mouth before he even had time to form the thought within his psyche. Yet, as they settled on the cabin, Luke could feel the tension in the cabin spike at his dire pronouncement.

"You're just jittery, Luke," Han scoffed. "There are lots of command ships. But, Chewie, let's keep our distance, without looking like we're keeping our distance."

The Wookiee growled something in response, which sounded suspiciously like an incredulous "How?"

"I don't know - fly casual," Han shot back.

"They're taking a long time with that code clearance," Leia said, her voice tight with strain.

"I'm endangering the mission," Luke blurted again into the silence of the cabin. "I shouldn't have come."

This was the end for Han. "Hey, Kid, why don't we try to be optimistic about this?"

"He knows I'm here." And Luke was certain he did. For as he recognized the Force presence of his father on the bridge of the massive ship, he felt the answering call of his father, the call of blood to blood, one Force user to another.

"Come on, kid, you're imagining things."

"He's not imagining it," Arica said. "I don't have the ability he does, but even I can sense something. If he says it's Vader, then I believe him."

Silence descended on the cabin and Han turned in his seat and stared at Arica, his mouth open in incredulity.

"Shuttle Tydirium, what is your cargo and destination?"

Han's response was lost as he turned back and answered the question. "Parts and technical personnel for the Sanctuary Moon."

As the comm once again stilled, Han glanced back at Luke, a question in his expression. "What should we do, Luke? Should we get out of here?"

"No," Leia responded, an urgency coloring her voice. "We'll never get another chance at this. We need to get down there now."

"But if Vader's on that ship like the Kid says, we aren't going anywhere near that moon. Better we get away and let the fleet know we've failed. We can move the assault back, try again some other time..."

"There is no other time." Leia's voice was resolute. "If we turn and run out of here, the Empire will know what we're up to and getting in next time will be all that much harder. Can you hide yourself from him, Luke?"

Luke shook his head, still transfixed by the proximity of Vader's overwhelming Force presence. "If I could, I would have before now."

"All right, Chewie," Han said, sounding decisive and certain... like a general. "Looks like we don't have a choice here. Be ready to beat it quick if they look like they're going hostile, but we'll just have to play this game to the end and see if they will go for it."

A bloated silence settled over the cabin as they waited for the massive warship to respond. Luke could feel his father questing out, feather-light brushes with the Force, trying to decipher the intent of the group, their identity and composition. Luke responded, trying to subtly blunt the thrusts as they approached the ship. He could feel himself learning as he tried to hide their identity from the Sith Lord, used talents and skills he never knew he possessed, although he was uncertain whether he would be able to duplicate what he was doing later. How successful he was, he could not be certain, but when the pressure abruptly lessened and then disappeared altogether, he heaved a huge breath, unaware he had been holding it in the first place.

The comm crackled and a voice came through the speakers into the cabin. "Shuttle Tydirium, deactivation of the shield will commence immediately. Follow your present course."

Almost as one, the group heaved a sigh of relief and Chewie eased the throttle open, sending them hurtling forward, toward the moon and the task which awaited.

"Hey, what did I tell you?" Han asserted with a grin. "No sweat."

"Is that what you told us?" Leia responded, her voice wry, yet affectionate.

As they moved away from the ship, the presence of the dark lord faded until it was nothing more than a memory and yet, Luke could not shake the feeling of foreboding which had enveloped him. Vader had been on that ship and if nothing else, he had felt his son, even if the son had managed to keep him from finding out anything about the rest of the party. And where Luke was, the dark lord had to know trouble followed - trouble for the Empire.

* * *

Han Solo did not like surprises.

He was aware that most of those who knew him, or knew of him, would be surprised to learn of that sentiment, but it was only the truth. In his previous life, a certain number of surprises had been necessary - an occupational hazard. He had learned over the years to accept that which he could not change and move along with the flow of the galaxy. And he had survived.

Accepting them and liking them were two different things.

This mission had not started off the way he had envisioned when he had accepted overall command. Making it past the heavy Imperial security with the stolen code had worked out as expected, Luke's misgivings of imminent danger and menacing Sith Lords notwithstanding.

But running into several scouts less than an hour after landing and having Luke and Leia go haring after them was not exactly what Han had in mind for this little jaunt. He had known the installation would be heavily guarded - he would have to be a fool _not_ to know - but they were supposed to infiltrate closer to the base before running into patrols. The whole episode complicated matters. If the scouts were able to escape, then the Imperial commanders would know there was a Rebel force on the moon and even if they did not, it would not be long before their absence and failure to report in was investigated.

And this did not even take into account the fact that they were running under a tight schedule to begin with. Not only were they only given about a standard day to complete their mission, but it was only a matter of time before they were discovered. Not only did the possibility exist of the Imperials discovering the shuttle they had arrived in hidden in the forest, but security was so tight in the system that it was only a matter of time before someone noticed that a shuttle which had passed through the shield had not arrived at its supposed destination. There was so much traffic in and out of this system right now that they were counting on having some time before the anomaly was discovered, but when they did, there would be hell to pay.

Therefore, he knew he had little choice. As worried as he was about his two absent friends, there would come a point when he would have to order the strike force away from the small clearing in which they waited and off toward the site of the shield generator, while he went looking for Luke and Leia. He was not certain this would be acceptable behavior for a general in the Alliance forces, but he also knew he was incapable of abandoning his friends if they needed his aid.

Han glanced around at the clearing in which they sat waiting. The sentries had been posted on all sides in the foliage and one or two had climbed nearby trees to keep a watch out from high up in the branches, although with the denseness of the forest, Han was uncertain how much good that would do them. The company which occupied the clearing was clustered into small groups, most talking in soft voices, although a few had taken the opportunity for a short nap. They were a hard, dangerous looking lot, trained extensively for this type of mission, and among their number there were many convicts, escapees from the Empire's prisons, or those who had lost loved ones to the Empire's depredations.

In fact, the lieutenant, a tall, burly man with graying hair and vivid blue eyes, had spent five years in prison. Han knew had gained a certain amount of notoriety and respect from the disparate parts of the Alliance, but he was under no illusions as to whom the men would listen to when the fighting started. He was technically the commanding officer on this mission, but they followed the lieutenant more than him.

This was fine with Han - the lieutenant was a good man and well respected by the men. He had no problem with the situation as it was.

A movement to his left caught his eye, causing Han to glance over at the woman seated a few paces away from him. Arica was an enigma, to be certain - he still did not know what to make of her. Although Luke repeatedly reiterated his position that there was nothing going on between the two of them, Han was certain the kid was disseminating, blind or just completely clueless when it came to women, any one of which was equally likely to be true, in Han's estimation.

But beyond their relationship (or lack thereof) he was uncertain about the woman herself. Her story, having grown up with a former Jedi for a mother, seemed little too perfect... too convenient to be true. Her appearance at Jabba's palace had been more than a little fortuitous, and Leia's account of seeing her in the throne room, the look they had shared just before Luke's arrival and the princess's conviction the redhead was more than just a dancer who knew a few magic tricks, was difficult to shrug off. He often received odd vibes from her at times, as though she was trying to figure Luke out, or trying to figure herself out.

And yet, despite all that, Han was having trouble disliking or distrusting her - almost as though he were being guided by this force of Luke's, something told him he could trust her. His intuition and judge of character rarely failed him and he was inclined to trust it again this time. Whatever her goals or intentions, Han could not help but like her - she was taciturn almost to the point of being antisocial, but when her cold exterior fell away, he found her to be a bright, confident and very competent individual.

And it didn't hurt that she was easy to look at either.

Han chuckled to himself. The kid's taste in women was impeccable - first Leia, who had somehow become everything in Han's world, to the flame-haired Arica, whom Han was certain could be absolutely stunning if she put her mind to it.

Still, there were unanswered questions about Arica and if the kid was unable to be assertive enough to find out the answers, then perhaps it was up to his good friend to obtain them for him.

"So, Arica, how're you doing over there?"

She turned her eyes on him and considered him, much as one would consider a side of nerf steaks, Han thought. But even as he felt himself being sized up, he could see what Luke saw in her - those deep green eyes set in a face with a pretty, flawless complexion, coupled with her head of thick, luxurious red hair were almost certain to melt the kid into a pool of Hutt slime. They already had, unless Han completely missed his guess. In fact, if Han were not already involved with Leia, he might consider taking her away from the kid.

"Can it, Solo," she responded, interrupting his meandering thoughts. "I know you're not really interested in how I'm doing. What do you want?"

Han flashed her his most injured 'who, me?' look. "Why would you think that?"

She glanced back at him in disgust. "Come on, Solo, I wasn't born just yesterday. Lately it's been one of two things: either you're about to hit on me, or you're about to go into that noble 'let's protect Skywalker' thing you and your friends have perfected."

She was quick, he certainly had to give that to her. "Yeah, well, you've seen the kid in action - I'd say he needs a little protecting, wouldn't you?"

Her expression was unreadable, but he thought he detected a trace of humor in your air. "It amazes me that a group of people can be so protective of a grown man. What have I ever done to cause you to mistrust me?"

"Well, how about your back story for starters?"

"Skywalker believes me, why shouldn't you?"

Han snorted. "Look sister, I don't know what went on between the two of you while you were gone, but trust me - if you think the kid actually believes your story of growing up with a Jedi mother, you're as crazy as he is."

Although her countenance did not alter at his open skepticism of her story, Han detected a tightening around the eyes. He could almost feel the annoyance coming off her in waves. "If you don't believe me, why am I here?"

It was a fair question, Han admitted to himself, one to which there was no easy answer. It had been in part by his insistence, his championing of the kid, that the admiral had been persuaded to allow her inclusion in what was, after all, the most crucial guerilla mission of the entire war. If she turned out to be a spy for the other side, or even a distraction for the kid, this whole thing could turn out to be a complete disaster, one from which the Alliance would never recover.

And yet, he found he did trust her. She was right - she had never given any of them any indication she was false or untrustworthy and this constant suspicion would do more harm in the end than good. But on the other hand, he was certain she had not been up front with them about her background and while she had always done exactly what she had said she would do, the lack of truth about her past was worrisome. Although he had not intended this to be an interrogation, Han knew the conversation was necessary, if only to make certain she understood perfectly where he, and the rest of the group, stood with regard to the kid.

"To tell you the truth, I don't know why you're here."

"An interesting confession coming from the commander of this little soiree." Her tone was sarcastic, but amused.

Han could only grin in response. "If you really want to know, then I guess you're here because of the kid. You say we try to protect him - and you're right - but we also trust him. Besides which, I've seen enough of the galaxy and been in enough tight spots to know when I can trust someone. No, you've never give us any reason to mistrust you and for what it's worth, I like you and I do think I can trust you. You wouldn't be here otherwise."

"But?"

Again he had to admire her quickness - she immediately saw through his words to the unspoken caveat. "Look sister, that galaxy worth of experience I mentioned also tells me when someone is not being completely honest with me. I can tell when I'm being lied to."

"But you just said you trusted me. Now you're saying you don't? That doesn't make sense."

"Yeah, it's complicated, isn't it?" Han responded, aware that to her, his words would not be completely understood. But then, with the kid and this whole crazy rebellion, nothing ever really made sense. "Look, all I'm saying is I like you and I trust you to a point, but until you come clean with us about where you came from, I'll reserve judgment."

"And if I've turned out to be telling the truth all along?"

"Yeah, and I'm a Hutt."

They stared at each other for several moments, Han aware that this was a dangerous woman who could likely do some serious damage if she so chose, while fully intending to return some of said damage if she turned out to be false. She could be very difficult to read at the best of times and now was no exception. But Han thought he could detect a measure of sincerity in her demeanor. It was not much, but it was all he had to go on.

"Solo," she began, breaking the silence which had become rather heavy, "I can tell you I have Skywalker's best interests in mind. I will not betray him, or play him false. I will do what I promised when I agreed to come on this mission."

"And what about the kid's feelings?"

Han grinned at the blank stare she directed at him - another child he had to babysit, one who could not even see what was right before her eyes. "Come on, Arica, I've seen the way the kid looks at you. They're exactly the same looks he used to direct at Leia - I ought to know."

Her eyes narrowed. "I'm not certain what you think you're saying, Solo."

"Look, the kid may claim there's nothing going on between you, but I've been around him long enough to know the signs. He's got it bad for you - I can see it in his face, in his voice, the way he acts around you. And unless I miss my guess, I think you feel something in return if you'd let yourself. All I'm saying is don't break the kid's heart; he's not a hardy, worldly guy like me, you know."

Arica cocked her head slightly sideways and the anger simmering below the surface seemed to drain away, leaving her somewhat amused. "Oh, and you're the manly stud?"

"That's the reputation," Han responded with a grin. "Just remember, Arica, don't play with the kid's emotions. He's had enough heartbreak and sorrow without you adding to it."

She was silent, seemingly lost in thought about what he had told her. Han glanced around the clearing. The men were still engaged in their various activities, but Han thought he could detect something else in their manner. As a band of guerilla fighters, they were uncomfortable remaining in one spot for too long in enemy territory - it was clear he would have to order them to move again before very long.

He turned his attention back to Arica, to find her studying him, a questioning look plastered on her face. When she spoke, her voice was hesitant, unsure - a novelty for the usually decisive woman.

"So Skywalker... he and Leia... they used to..." she blushed and turned away, leaving Han bemused at the sight of Arica actually blushing - he would not have thought she had it in her.

"You worried Leia's going to steal him away from you?" he teased.

Baiting Arica, it turned out, was a great deal of fun, but carried with it very definite hazards and would, he suspected, turn into a contact sport if pursued for any length of time. She turned back to face him, her eyes steely and her countenance bleak, the annoyance almost flowing off her in waves.

"Cool it, sister," Han exclaimed with a laugh, his hands held out in supplication. "I didn't mean nothing by it."

"I suggest you keep your opinions to yourself."

When Han only grinned in response, she shook her head and stared back at him, clearly indicating him to continue.

"Yeah, the kid used to have it bad for Leia," he continued, when he had assured himself she was not about to draw her little blaster. "You should have seen him mooning around after her on the journey from the Death Star, and even after Yavin - for a while there I thought he'd grow scales and wings and turn into her own personal tailring."

"And recently?" she prompted.

Han had to suppress another grin in response - he did not know how she could not be aware of how transparent she was being. "I'd guess you'd have to ask the kid about that, wouldn't you? For what it's worth, he claims to have no romantic interest in her any more, although why his feelings have changed, I don't know. I _was_ out of it for six months, you know."

Suddenly, Artoo's excited electronic chatter caught Han's attention and he turned toward where the droids stood.

"Captain Solo, Artoo says someone's coming."

Han turned toward the rest of the company, but he need not have bothered - everyone had heard the droid's statement and all conversation had ceased. Weapons were drawn, and the company was instantly ready for action. No warnings had been sounded by the sentries, so that was good news at least.

A twig snapped out beyond the outer ring of bushes and the entire group tensed. But after a moment, Luke jogged into the clearing and weapons were relaxed as a sigh of collective relief went up from the group.

He had clearly been running for some time, the sweat rolled down his face in tiny rivulets to dampen his battle tunic. He flopped to the ground at Han's side and let out a groan of exhaustion and relief.

"Tough day, huh kid?"

Luke glared up at the former smuggler. "Yeah, I've seen better. Just wait until we get to the generator."

Han, however, was not listening as he watched the edge of the clearing, waiting for Leia to appear, a cold knot of worry forming in his stomach. "Where's Leia?"

Luke was suddenly upright as his face lined in worry. "You mean she didn't come back?"

"I thought she was with you," Han retorted, the concern he felt suddenly going into hyperspace.

"We got split up. I thought I had to go a lot further than she did, so I figured she'd be back by now. We better go look for her."

Han peered at the kid, seeing the exhaustion in his face. He had been through a rough time that day. "Don't you want to rest first?"

Luke shook his head, his face hard and determined. "I want to find Leia."

Han nodded and turned toward the lieutenant, giving him instructions to take the troops forward as planned and informing them they would rendezvous at the shield generator the next morning. If the officer thought anything of the general leaving his troops to look for one member of the party on the eve of battle, he said nothing. He merely saluted and began organizing the commandos. Within minutes they had begun to move out of the clearing, many faces clearly showing the relief they felt at being on the move once again.

"All right, kid, this is your show. You better lead us to where you got separated from Leia."

At Luke's nod, they filed out of the clearing.

* * *

Mara followed the others, although distracted; thinking about what Solo had had to say. His rough exterior, coupled with the sometimes uncouth way he had of talking hid the fact that he was, in fact, very observant and difficult to fool.

His skepticism of her story did not worry her - it was no less than expected after all and as long as Skywalker bought it, or at least did not challenge her on it, she knew Solo would do nothing more than have his little suspicions. And if she could succeed in this mission and prove to Skywalker she was trustworthy and committed to the cause - committed to him and the Jedi - she would likely be able to get away without ever having to explain her background any more fully, especially if the Emperor perished along with the massive space station, as she intended.

But something in the back of her mind warned her, spoke to her of possible issues with her plan. For starters, Vader had been on the command ship and had sensed Skywalker's presence - of that she was completely certain. Whether or not the Dark Lord had sensed her was a different story. Following Skywalker's efforts as she had been, she thought he had done a credible job of deflecting Vader's curiosity away from the team.

Far less certain was what the knowledge of his son's presence would cause him to do. Would he stay on the command ship, or would he return to the Death Star and report to his master? If he was on the Death Star, that would simplify things immensely if they did manage to destroy the station. Depending how the battle went, the Dark Lord being on the command ship could also work well with her plan, assuming the rebel fleet was up to the task of dealing with their Imperial foes - not a certainty, considering the military might her master had at his disposal.

But if Vader should come to the moon, that would complicate her plan immensely. Not only would his presence make destroying the shield generator more difficult, but if he were to appear on the moon, the chances of father meeting son, and her identity being compromised, increased dramatically.

And then there was Skywalker himself. She had been surprised to hear of Solo's assertion that he had been infatuated with the Alderaanian princess as she had never been able to detect any symptom of particular regard between the two. They were close - anyone with eyes could see that - but their closeness seemed the affection between two friends who had been through much together, rather than that of lovers, or even former lovers.

The thought of Skywalker pining away for the love of the princess did not fit what she knew of him, although admittedly she could be wrong due to their short acquaintance. The thought of his heart belonging to someone else induced pangs of something she could not quite decipher. She did not know how to describe it.

She also did not know why it mattered to her.

She glanced up to where he and Solo were leading the search party. She could feel his Force sense questing out ahead in search of the missing princess. He became aware of her watching and turned to look in her direction, a fond expression on his face as he brushed her affectionately with his Force sense. Without thinking, Mara responded with a brush of her own, before withdrawing in consternation, wondering at how she had come to respond so automatically to his overtures. Skywalker merely smiled at her, his care for her evident in his manner, before turning his attention back to his search.

Feeling her cheeks heating in response to his obvious regard, Mara concentrated on the ground, willing her recalcitrant face to return to its normal state. The episode had confirmed one thing though - although she was unversed in most interpersonal emotions, she knew Solo's assertion of something else passing between them was true. There _was_ something between Skywalker and herself. She could now only hope they both lived long enough to explore it and find out what it was.


	13. Chapter 12

Here it is - enjoy!

**Chapter 12**

The party was already in full swing when Luke left the hut.

Unable to make merry like the rest of the party and unwilling to pull down everyone else's spirits, he decided the best thing was for him to remove himself from the general merriment. The others would miss him soon enough and come looking for him.

The walkways outside the Ewoks' common gathering area were deserted, only a few of the residents to be seen and as he moved further and further away, the area grew deserted and the music ever fainter. Luke had to smile at the cacophony - he wondered if it was audible to the Imperial installation, still several miles away through the forest. With a noise like that, it was a wonder the Emperor himself could not hear it on the Death Star.

It was the mood of a moment and it quickly evaporated, even more so at the thought of the Death Star and the evil old man brooding in its depths. In his mind's eye, Luke pictured a small, wizened caricature of a man, long claws extended from talon-like appendages, sunk into the lifeblood of the galaxy. The image was so ridiculously comical it allowed Luke's mood to ebb for a moment. Yet it too was nothing more than a fleeting impression, a minor distraction from the seriousness of the evening. His thoughts turned morose yet again and he continued to walk until he slowed in the middle of a remote walkway, far enough away from the ongoing revelries that the music was only a vague murmur in the distance, yet close enough to be found easily when the others began looking for him. He knew the others would find him - it was inevitable.

As he waited, Luke stared out into the darkness of the forest, wondering how he had arrived at this crossroads. Yoda and then Ben had insisted he must face his father, but neither had said anything about the true architect of the galaxy's troubles. By all accounts, the Emperor was powerful - a man whose cunning and mastery of the Dark Side of the Force had enabled him to engineer the fall of the Republic and the entire Jedi order, placing himself as absolute and uncontested ruler of the galaxy. Some months ago in the course of his training with Master Yoda, the aged Jedi master had confided in Luke, admitting he had once engaged the dark master in one on one combat and had had to flee the confrontation after losing his lightsaber. Luke had been astonished to hear his master speak of fighting a lightsaber battle, but as a Jedi, he must have had one at some point, even though Luke had never seen evidence of one. His knowledge of the lightsaber forms and sheer raw power and presence in the Force would have made him a powerful warrior at one time, regardless of his small stature and the initial comment to Luke about wars not making one great. If a Jedi as accomplished and powerful as Yoda had been had not managed to defeat the Emperor, what chance had he - a raw beginner - to defeat a being who had had decades of experience? Luke had no answers.

Standing in the darkness of the trees, Luke gazed out into the darkness, knowing he stared unerringly at the heart of Imperial might here on this moon in its remote corner of the galaxy. The presence drew his attention there like a spotlight - Luke would have known the direction blindfolded.

Vader was there, had been there since late that afternoon and was even now questing out in the Force, trying to locate his recalcitrant son. Just as it had on the shuttle on the way to the moon, Luke felt their connection in the Force singing out to him, calling him.

But this time it was different. During the incident on the shuttle, when he had deflected his father's senses from the rest of the group, Luke had learned a few things. He knew now he could defend his friends from his father's attention and hide himself in the Force. But once they moved out in the morning, the closer they drew to the installation, the more difficult it would become to do so. He had learned a few things but he was not a master - not yet.

Therein lay his dilemma - stay with the group and every step closer, every moment the risk of detection would grow until inevitably the dark lord would sense his son and the Imperials would be forewarned. Luke knew they had only one chance at destroying the deflector array and his presence had already compromised the mission with his father's knowledge of the son's presence. Darth Vader would almost certainly still be on the command ship if he had not sensed Luke as they had entered the system.

But what was the other option? Leave and stay away from the Imperial base? If he did that he would leave his friends to face the dark lord alone, one who would surely know they were coming. To do that would almost certainly doom them to their fates.

Try as he might, Luke simply could not think of any other way to avoid the growing assurance, which told him what he had to do. The Force whispered his next move to him and not for the first time, Luke found himself wondering if the Force really knew what it was talking about. To give himself up to his father seemed an act of suicide, one which would not accomplish anything, but serve to remove the Jedi from the galaxy in a most abrupt and final way.

But what other choice did he have? In going to face Vader, he could distract the dark lord, focused on Luke as he would be, allow the attack to proceed without his intervention, give his friends the chance to destroy the shield generator and the Death Star once and for all. And if the Emperor and his servant were on the monstrosity floating in space, so much the better - victory over the remaining Imperial forces would then become possible. In giving his own life away, Luke knew he would save the lives of so many...

Deep inside his consciousness, however, Luke felt another insistent whispering, an enticing murmur which told him all was not as it appeared with his father. He thought back to their confrontation on Bespin, the effortless manner in which Vader had defeated him, the awesome power the dark lord had displayed. And yet, although he could have easily defeated his son and made him one with the Force, Vader had not. Instead, he had extended his hand, attempted to entice the son into joining him.

Had it all been a ploy? Had it been part of a plan between the two Sith to effect the turning of the last Jedi to the dark side, ensuring their ultimate victory? Likely, yes. And yet, Luke had felt something at the time, an undertone to the dark lord's words, a whispering contrary to the sibilant entreaties to join his father in evil.

Luke had rarely allowed himself to think of that day in any great depth. But when he had, the foremost memory in his mind had been the feelings he had sense in the Sith Lord. Now, many months after the event and his words with Ben and Yoda still fresh in his mind, Luke was able to think more clearly about his father and the emotions he had felt that day.

Contrasted with what he knew of Vader through his own experience, not to mention the Sith Lord's notoriety, the picture he had received from his father's thoughts and emotions, tightly guarded as they had been, had been almost unrecognizable. What he had felt from his father was undeniably conflict, although to be more precise than that was impossible. He was certain the dark lord had not wanted to hurt his son, but the habits and affiliations of twenty years had ruled him. Luke could not say anything further for certain, but he knew there was good in Vader, knew the Emperor had not managed to stamp out the last vestiges of Anakin Skywalker.

But would that help him? Would it be enough? Would the ties of blood and kinship be able to overcome two decades of evil, two decades of slowly eradicating whatever goodness and humanity had once existed in the soul of a man who had once been a Jedi?

Turning himself over to his father in an effort to turn him away from his dark path was the ultimate gamble and Luke could not be certain it would pay off.

On the other hand, he knew time was running out. The shield generator must come down and it was obvious the chances of it doing so while Luke was still in the area were slim. No, Vader and the Emperor had to be distracted and in the end, what greater carrot could there be than the man for whom they had searched for over four years?

Luke sighed and his thoughts quieted, the decision seeming to have been made.

_You will know when you are at peace_..._ calm, passive._ Master Yoda's words floated back to him. It seemed the Force was content with his decision as well, as the pathway now seemed so clear to him.

Feeling a vibrancy through the Force he had rarely felt, Luke stretched out with his senses and touched the energy pent up around him. It was if all of creation waited, its collective breath held, time stopped while its ultimate fate was decided. It was a fanciful thought to be certain, but Luke could almost imagine a dam, preventing time itself from moving forward. All that was necessary was the sequence of events to play out, for the future to finally be decided upon. The course of the galaxy would be determined and the new order would arise. Would it be dark or light?

Determined, Luke vowed that the Emperor would be stopped, one way or another - this could not be allowed to continue. The implacable resolve replaced any doubts Luke had had before. There would be no more doubts. Only resolve... action.

Aware his decision was an important watershed moment in his life, Luke chose not to dwell on it any further. Consigning it to the back of his mind, Luke cast out his senses, touching the Force, immersing himself in its gentle flows. The forest around him teemed with life, that of his friends, the Ewoks, not to mention the creatures of the forest, nocturnal or otherwise. But the forest life did not hold his attention, nor did the Ewoks.

His friends were back in the village, preparing for the assault tomorrow and the prize at the end of the day. Han, he sensed, was enjoying himself, carrying on a conversation with the chief of the tribe, tormenting his translator in the process. Luke chuckled at the thought of Han and Threepio together. Some things never changed.

Chewie was busy making certain to go through the entire banquet by himself. Luke was reminded of the Wookiee's voracious appetite, which could keep his massive friend ensconced at the dinner table for hours.

And the other two members of the small group... The search party. Luke grinned - he should have known the two women would notice his absence and come looking for him.

And yet, as soon as the thought occurred to him, he knew he was not quite correct - although they both approached him they were not together. Leia cautiously made her way along the walkway, her thoughts guarded, but curious about why he had left. It was she who had first sensed him leave and had come looking for him. Arica was following behind Leia, clearly wondering about his solitude, yet a part of her oddly fearful. It was possible she sensed his introspection and had come on her own to investigate. It was possible she had an idea of what was bothering him too, considering she was the only other living being who know of his relationship with Vader.

Luke quested out with his Force sense and brushed against her, causing her to stop and return the gesture, although hesitant and uncertain. He sent a calming reassurance back to her, suggesting she wait until he had spoken with Leia. He felt her answering acquiescence and she stopped and leaned up against the railing of the walkway on which she stood. Her focus, however, stayed on Luke and he could feel her questing out yet, maintaining contact wit him.

For the moment, Luke put her out of his mind and concentrated on the princess. She approached hesitantly along the walkway and upon reaching him, placed her hand on his arm.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

Luke said nothing in reply, transfixed as he was by her sense in the Force and the feeling of close kinship he felt with her at that moment. Now he knew what he was looking for, it was easy to tell she was Force sensitive, to feel the connection which had always existed between them. But her strength was different, her path separate from his - he suspected it would always have been thus, even if they had not been separated at birth. Whether they had planned it or been prompted by the Force, Luke knew Ben and Yoda had been inspired in their decision to send her to Alderaan, him to Tatooine. She was the diplomat and her strength in the Force would continue to be focused on those aspects of a Jedi's calling.

"Luke?" she asked again, her sense becoming more concerned.

"Wrong? I guess it would be correct to say things have been wrong since before we were born. But perhaps they can be made right again."

Leia's responding look was one of confusion, which Luke immediately set out to correct. His introspection was causing him to speak in riddles which he only half understood himself.

"Nothing specifically is wrong, Leia, I'm just thinking. Something is about to happen... I just want to be certain I am strong enough to handle it."

"What is it Luke?"

But Luke ignored the question. "Leia... do you remember your mother? I mean your real mother."

It seemed the last thing she had been expecting to hear. Her eyes widened in surprise and then narrowed, and Luke half expected her to demand to know what he was thinking about. In the end, however, she took at deep breath and responded to his question.

"No, Luke, I don't remember her. I was told she died when I was born."

Luke nodded his head, his attention never wavering from his sister's face. "I have no memory of mother either. I never knew her."

"Luke, why are you asking me this?"

"Because I may never get another chance."

Leia's eyes widened and fear shone in their depths; this talk of not being there was clearly unnerving her.

"Luke, tell me what's wrong."

Luke sighed and rubbed his temples wearily, before taking her hands in his own and directing his attention back to her. "Vader is here... now. On this moon."

The alarm was now showing plainly on her face. "How can you know?"

"Remember when we were on the shuttle and I said he was on the command ship?" At her answering nod he continued. "I can feel his presence when he is near, just like on the shuttle. The closer we go to the installation, the more clearly his presence will shine out to me."

"But why is he here? Did we miss something?"

"No, Leia," Luke continued, his voice still calm and steady. "He's come for me. As I can sense him, he too can sense me."

"Can you hide from him?"

Luke nodded. "I can to a certain extent, but the closer we approach the generator, the more difficult it will be to do so. At some point, I won't be able to hide any longer and he will become aware of my presence."

Leia said nothing in response, but Luke could tell through her Force sense she was becoming more concerned with every passing moment. She could see the complications his presence was bringing to the mission.

"Yes, Leia, I must leave you. As long as I stay with you, I'm endangering everyone and putting the whole mission in jeopardy. I must face him."

"Face him? What are you talking about?" Leia was quickly becoming distraught and tears gathered at the corners of her eyes.

"It's my destiny. The dark lord is my personal nemesis - one which I must face and overcome to become a Jedi."

"Luke you are talking nonsense now. Face him? Stay away from the assault if you must, but to face him is insanity. Don't you remember what happened last time?"

Luke could not help but be amused at Leia's assertions. She still did not know him well if she expected him to slink off and hide, back down from a confrontation. They had always called him impulsive and reckless - the man who had walked brazenly into a massive space station to rescue a princess and braved a powerful evil man in his den while still a raw recruit. Luke had never backed down from a challenge in his life.

"I remember, Leia. But I've learned a thing or two since then. Besides, there are... complications you don't know about. It's time I told you."

Her expression grew intense and she leveled a glare at him, some of the fire which had made her the youngest senator in the history of the galaxy and quelled the resistance of more than one rebel recruit once again showing in her manner. "What is it, Luke."

"I have to face Vader because he is my responsibility. He is my father."

"Your father? How could that be? How could such a monster even father a son?"

"I have no answers for you, Leia," Luke responded, clutching her arms and willing her to believe. "I do know that once, he was Anakin Skywalker, Jedi Knight and apprentice to Ben Kenobi. He was not always as he is now."

Luke watched as Leia struggled to absorb this new intelligence, knowing what he was about to tell her would be even more difficult for her to hear and accept. He had no way of knowing if he would ever return from his self-appointed mission to save the dark lord and if he failed, Leia needed to know everything.

When she looked back up at him, he could still see the doubt in her eyes, but there was also acceptance. He took a deep breath and continued.

"Yes, Leia, it's true. And there's more. It won't be easy for you to hear it but you have to. I'm going to meet the dark lord and it is my every intention to succeed, but if I don't come back, you and Arica are the only hope for the Alliance."

He could sense her confusion and denial, but Luke knew he had to make her believe. Much depended upon her.

"Luke, don't talk that way. Everyone does what they can, but I'm of no more importance than anyone else. Arica I can see. You... you're both Jedi. You have power that I don't understand and could never have. You are the hope of the Alliance, not I."

"You're wrong, Leia. You have that power too. The Force is strong in you and in time you will learn to use it."

"What are you talking about, Luke?" Leia demanded. "I'm not strong in the Force! Do you think the Emperor and Vader would have let me live if I was?"

"I don't claim to understand it, Leia," Luke responded, allowing her a glimpse of his conviction through his words. "You _are_ Force sensitive. I missed it before, but now I know what I'm looking for, it is clear to me. Somehow, you naturally suppress it, hide it from those around you, but it's there all the same. You have within you the potential to be a very powerful Jedi - all you need is the instruction to help you realize it."

"But how?"

"The Force is strong in my family, Leia. My father has it, I have it... and my sister has it."

Incredulity warred with disbelief in her face. As she gazed up at him, her expression softened. He could see she read the truth in his eyes, felt it glow through the Force, whether she consciously invoked the assistance of the Force or not. She was beginning to understand.

"I know Luke... I think maybe I always knew."

"Then you know why I must face him."

"No! Why must you face him? Is this some stupid Jedi honor code or something? Why is marching willingly to your own death the only way to handle this?"

Luke chuckled. "I'm gratified by your faith in me."

The comment elicited a slight smile from her through the tears which now moistened her cheeks, but it was gone in an instant. "You know what I'm saying. What is so important about facing him?"

"Everyone must face their own personal demons, Leia. It's part of growing and developing beyond what we are to what we are to become. For a Jedi, that confrontation is far more intense and usually involves the dark side. I will never be what I was meant to be if I play the coward and avoid this confrontation. And besides, you know me; do you really expect me to back down from a challenge _now_?"

"I _do_ know you, Luke," Leia responded with a small laugh. "That's why I'm worried."

"I know you are," Luke said tenderly, his hand brushing the tears from her face. "I'm worried myself. I can't predict what will happen any more than you can. I only know this is what I must do. In the end, if I can do nothing more than distract him and allow the attack to succeed, then I've done my part. The Alliance must win - all depends upon it."

The tears fell steadily down Leia's face now, but her lips raised in the semblance of a smile. Luke knew acceptance had made its bitter way through to her heart.

"Besides, there is good in him."

The smile turned to an incredulous stare. "Good in him? You can't be serious!"

"I've felt it. He won't turn me over to the Emperor. I can save him - I know it. I have to try, Leia. He's our father."

There was nothing to be said after such a pronouncement. They clutched one another for comfort for several moments, tears streaming down both of their faces, mixing together a bittersweet symbol of their common bond and sibling connection. He had never, not even when pursuing her as a possible romantic interest, felt so close to her as he did now at the end, when he must leave her.

Finally he eased away from her, murmuring comforting words to her. "Good bye, Leia. I never imagined I had a sister, but now that I've found you, I can't imagine one more perfect. I will be back if I can."

Luke turned away and strode down the path, putting as much distance between them as he could. He was unwilling to see her continue to cry. He felt Han approaching and knew he was leaving his precious sister in the hands of one he trusted above all others. It was the best he could do under the circumstances.

He stopped after several moments and composed himself, willing his Jedi calm to return to deal with the next ordeal. Arica's sense washed over him and he could feel her worry and apprehension. He beckoned her to join him, even as he considered what he could possibly say to her. He had given her his promise to train her and show her the ways of the Force, but now knew he may have to foreswear that promise. This good bye he knew would be even harder than the one with Leia. Leia was his sister - Arica was quickly becoming part of his soul.

* * *

Mara stood alone in the darkness of the Ewok pathway and shivered. Although she was not cold, she had a bad feeling something was about to happen which she would not like, knowing it revolved around Skywalker. But then again, recently what had _not_ revolved around the Jedi?

She had sensed him leave immediately, but caught up as she was in the spectacle she had not given it a second thought, assuming he had just left to get away from the press of small, furry bodies. But she should have known. His Force sense had been erratic all day, ever since the incident on the shuttle and the near miss with Vader. It had progressively gotten worse throughout the day until she now knew something heavy was weighing on his mind.

It had not been until Organa left that she had stopped to take notice. The princess leaving had galvanized her into investigating and she could now tell the introspective nature of his thoughts, the solemn and slightly gloomy manner in which he had carried himself most of the afternoon.

Now standing out on the walkway, holding her arms around herself for comfort, Mara waited, doing her best not to imagine what was being said between the two friends. Since the conversation with Solo she had paid close attention to Skywalker and his dealings with Organa once they had caught up with her that evening. What she saw had served to reassure her that there was nothing going on between the two of them, but still Mara could not be certain and her mind was in hyperspace, thinking about how she may have lost him, just when she was about to find him.

Mara shook her head, determined to root out the thoughts which seemed to have taken hold of her. The Force senses of the two friends spoke of long held affection and friendship, and maybe even something deeper. But it was certainly not a romantic love between the two. No, there was something else going on here and although Mara was afraid to find out exactly what it was, she knew by instinct she would not like it, no matter what it was.

"What are you doing out here?"

The voice startled her and she spun toward her assailant, her holdout blaster appearing in her hand without a second thought. Behind her, Solo stood with a gleaming smirk on his face.

"Solo!" Mara was incensed, but reluctantly slid her blaster back in its holster on her wrist.

"What's the matter, Arica? Surprise you?"

The laughter in his voice only made Mara angrier. She gave him a disdainful sniff, before turning back to her vigil. Things seemed to have reached a conclusion between Organa and Skywalker as he was now moving away from her.

"Have you seen Luke or Leia?" Solo's voice once again penetrated the night.

"Yes, they're just up ahead," Mara replied grudgingly. "Skywalker is moving away from her now, so you should be able to go and see her. I'm going after Skywalker."

"Wait!" Solo ran to catch up to her and peered at her through the gloom. "What's going on here? What were they talking about?"

"I don't know, Solo, but I intend to find out."

Mara brushed past him and hurried off into the night, bypassing the pathway where Organa stood, not wanting to talk to the princess. She followed a circuitous route which took her beyond the heavily populated areas of the Ewok settlement and through the outermost branches of the massive trees. But her attention remained fixed on Skywalker - she could feel him in her heart and could have found him anywhere, no matter how hard he tried to hide.

And suddenly she was there. He stood on the edge of a large platform at the end of the village. Beyond him the walkway curved around the trunk of a giant tree, fading down to the forest floor. The location caused Mara's already heightened sense of wrongness to soar to new heights. All was not as it should be.

Skywalker himself appeared to be lost in thought. His face was a carefully drawn mask, deliberately drawn over to conceal his emotions and shield from her his intentions. Through the Force, she could only sense his shields, which were now working to cut him off from her as completely as she had ever known. He almost reminded her of herself.

"Arica," his voice drifted to her softly in the night. She gazed up at his eyes, startled to find them trained on her. The gloom was too pronounced for her to see much more, but she thought she could see an infinite sadness in their depth.

"Skywalker..." she began, and for a moment her voice failed her as her courage ebbed.

He held out his hand, summoning her to join him on his lonely vigil. She screwed up her courage and stepped forward, taking his proffered hand, her distracted mind noting yet again the feeling of rightness which swept through her. She knew it was all right - she could ask him anything.

"What's going on here? Shouldn't you be back there helping Solo plan the assault? It's not every day little stuffed animals offer to help take on a heavily defended Imperial installation you know."

Her remark had the intended effect, as his lips curved into the shape of a grin, his eyes twinkled. "No, I suppose it isn't. I can think of a couple of scrapes in the past few years where their help would have been welcome."

He was silent after that and Mara stayed carefully silent as well, her knowledge instinctive. There was no pushing him this night. He would get to the point when he was ready.

They stayed that way for several moments in companionable silence, enjoying the night together as each focused on the other to the exclusion of everything else. Mara was unwilling to break the spell which seemed to have been woven about them. Unfortunately, all things must come to an end.

"I'm not helping Han with the planning because I won't be part of the assault tomorrow."

Mara was shocked and could only stand staring at him with a dumbfounded look on her face. It was several moments before she was able to gather herself.

"Won't be part of the assault... What kind of idiocy is this?" Of course, confusion had given away to anger. It was her personal nemesis.

"Arica. You have to listen to me. It won't be easy for you to hear this, any more than it was for Leia, but I need you to listen and understand, even if you don't agree."

She did not know how to respond to his plea, but nodded her head at him, even while a lead weight of fear formed within her middle. No, there was no way she would like what he was about to say.

"Arica... do you feel anything different from the Force tonight. Specifically in the direction of the Imperial base."

She was not certain what his meaning was, but questing out with her senses, Mara directed her thought out in the direction he had indicated. The Force was vibrant, filled with the essences of the moon's residents, but other than the strange feeling of anticipation in the air, something she attributed to the impending confrontation between the forces of the Alliance and Empire, she could detect no discernable difference. But even as the thought passed through her mind, she knew there was something different. The atmosphere on the moon had changed and not for the better.

She looked up at Skywalker in silent question and he smiled, his Force sense beckoning her into a closer arrangement. She carefully locked those places she did not want him knowing about behind walls as strong as she could make them and acquiesced to his request.

The experience was beautiful and awe-inspiring, not truly a full joining of souls - they both held parts of themselves away from the other - but it was a further taste of all they could be to each other if they could only find a way to stay together through all the madness which was about to enfold. But Mara also knew with clarity that whatever aspirations she had to a relationship with Skywalker, there would be no true meld of Force users unless she was able to go into the joining completely and without reservation. Not to mention without hiding any part of herself from him.

Which meant if she was to keep her past a secret from him, there would be no such union, now or ever. It was a sobering thought, because part of her craved that union, craved as though it was the only thing which could sustain her physically and spiritually. But still, a relationship with Skywalker could be a wonderful thing even without the added dimension of a full Force bond. At least that was what she told herself.

When she came to her senses, she noticed Skywalker regarding her, a curious expression on his serene face. Knowing she had stayed silent far too long, Mara smiled at him, indicating her readiness, and together they reached out to the Force.

At once, Mara could appreciate the reason for Skywalker's strange mood. The feelings she had sensed on the shuttle had returned and were amplified.

Her eyes snapped to Skywalker's. "Vader."

At his silent nod, she searched his eyes before continuing. "How long has he been here?"

"He arrived some time this afternoon. To tell you the truth, I'm not certain exactly when."

"So what does this mean?"

He regarded her as though debating within himself whether he wanted to tell her. In the end, his statement was simple and direct. "Arica, I have to leave you."

She regarded him, incredulous at his sudden declaration. "What do you mean?"

"I've already compromised the mission due to my presence. If I stay with the group, I will only end up imperiling the mission even further. What do you think Vader will do if he senses me approaching with a company of rebel commandos at my back?"

Mara had already grasped the implications of Vader's presence. What she was not yet able to determine was what exactly Skywalker intended to do about it.

"So what are you suggesting? Are you going to leave the troop and stay away from the battle?"

"No, Arica. The time has come to face my destiny. Both Yoda and Ben told me I would have to face Vader and that time has come."

Not able to believe her ears, Mara stared at him. Was he really suggesting braving the dark lord in the Imperial stronghold? And to what end? Was he really naive enough to believe the Imperial garrison here on the moon would allow him anywhere near the dark lord, he a notorious rebel and dangerous threat to the security of the Empire? Certainly he could not be so foolish.

"Skywalker," she growled, more than a little irritated, "what are you talking about? Are you going to challenge Vader to single combat? You'll never even get close to him."

"I'm not going to challenge him, Arica. I'm going to save him."

Of all the things he could have said, all the crazy, impulsive, reckless things she knew to be within his ability to conjure up, this was perhaps the last thing she could have expected. Her disbelief must have been plain to read on her face, as Skywalker's face assumed the earnest expression which drove out all disbelief in his sincerity. He was completely serious in his declaration!

"Am I hearing you right? You want to redeem a man who has been the means of destroying the Jedi order, of committing atrocities without number, save a man who has been steeped in the dark side of the Force since before you were born? Even you can't be that reckless."

"And you are an expert on my recklessness?" he responded, a tiny smile displayed in the corners of his mouth.

"I've certainly heard enough about you to guess at the rest," she shot back. She could not believe what she was hearing - she had thought she had considered all the scenarios, determined all the ways in which her carefully thought out plans could go awry. This was one thing she could never have imagined happening. That Skywalker would give himself willingly into the power of his greatest enemies was beyond anything she could comprehend.

"I guess you have at that," Skywalker responded in that irritating, calm manner she had come to know so well. Strange it had not irritated her recently as it had when she had first made his acquaintance.

"Yes, Arica, he is all those things and more. But he is also my father."

"_Was_ your father. I think he gave up that right many years ago when he _chose_ to become what he is now. What makes you think he is so worth saving now?"

"Is _any_ being not worth saving?"

"How about the Emperor? You interested in saving him as well?"

Skywalker sighed and turned his face away. "The Emperor is not a part of this conversation, Arica. I know nothing of him, beyond what I have heard on the holo-news and experienced over my time with the Alliance. My father, though, I have personal experience with. And I can tell you through that experience that whatever he has become, the Emperor has not managed to stamp out all the goodness in his soul. I've felt it."

"Are you listening to yourself, Skywalker?" Arica demanded, becoming desperate. "Whatever you believe about your father, he _is_ under the thumb of his master and I can tell you with certainty - the Emperor is not about to give any credence to your overly-sentimental feelings regarding your father."

Skywalker regarded her, a frosty expression on his face. "Arica, I am not unaware of the exact nature of the relationship between the Emperor and my father."

"And you will become even more intimately familiar with it if you allow Vader to take you before the Emperor."

"I don't intend that at all," he responded, his voice quiet and even.

The confusion showed in her face. "What do you mean?"

"I don't believe my father will take me before the Emperor at all. He can be redeemed, Arica, I know it."

Redemption for Vader - was there any way Skywalker knew what he was talking about? Could the most notorious man in the galaxy be reformed, changed into something completely unrecognizable from what he had existed as the last twenty years.

No, it was impossible. She _knew_ Vader, knew what he was capable of, knew the black giant's level of ambition, of his contempt for everyone and everything around him. He was not a creature to be reformed by the unfettered love of a dreaming young man who happened to be his own progeny, no matter how the event had originally happened. What Skywalker was contemplating was utter lunacy and she could not allow him to do this to himself.

To do this to _them_.

"Skywalker, don't you think you're being a little unrealistic here? You've wanted a father figure for so long it's affecting your judgment."

She was amazed by the sound of her own voice, how she was utterly calm and rational where her mind screamed at her to vent her fear and frustration on the obstinate Jedi.

"No, Arica, not this time. I know what I have to do."

"What you're contemplating is suicide!" she screamed as the bubble of her calm disintegrated under the weight of his continued intractability. "You're going to walk into an Imperial encampment and get yourself killed. Then where will the Alliance be if you do this?"

"In your capable hands, Arica."

"Me?"

"Yes, you. You have some of the teachings of the Jedi and in time you will learn more. If I don't return, I need you to stay strong and continue the legacy of the Jedi."

"You want me to..." It came out almost as a squeak.

"Yes, Arica," Skywalker responded, as he wiped a tear off her cheek with one calloused finger. "You must continue to learn and to grow, become the Jedi I know you can be. I'm fully aware of what the possible consequences of my actions will be and I know there is every possibility I may not return. I have every intention of coming back to you, but if I do not, then you are the last hope of the Alliance. You and Leia..."

"Leia?" Now Mara was bewildered. What did the princess have to do with any of this. Unless...

"Yes, she is Force sensitive."

The revelation was the last blow in an evening full of unexpected and unwelcome surprises. She was not certain she could assimilate it all.

"Please, Arica, if I do not return, teach Leia what you know. Between the two of you, I know you can return the Jedi order to the galaxy as a force for good and justice. Please do this for me."

"Skywalker," Mara began, choosing her words carefully, "please, do not do this. It makes much more sense to take the Emperor out from a distance. If we can bring down the shield, the Death Star can be destroyed with him on board and his evil can be snuffed out forever. Don't throw your life away needlessly."

Skywalker sighed and shook his head, a sad smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "I'm sorry, Arica, but the die's been cast. It was likely cast before you or I were ever born. I must do this - everything I've trained and fought for has led me to this."

He moved to turn away and Mara, desperate to persuade him otherwise, blurted out the only thing that came to mind.

"What about us?"

Clearly caught by surprise, Skywalker turned to face her once again, his shocked features illuminated in the distant glow of the Ewoks' fires.

"What?" he breathed, his eyes searching hers.

Discomfited, Mara tried to enunciate what was in her heart. Her general lack of experience in these matters, combined with her own lack of any true knowledge of what exactly she was feeling, made that difficult.

"I thought... I had begun to feel... that there was something between us."

His answering gaze was smoldering once again with the desire and regard she had felt with him back on the Alliance command ship.

"I hope there is, Arica."

"There is no way to find out if you go haring off now to your death. Please, I'm asking you - I'm begging you to stay. I... I need you."

Skywalker said nothing immediately in response. Instead he reached out and gathered her in his arms, pressing her against his chest in a gesture once again alien, yet comforting to Mara. For a brief moment she thought she'd gotten through to him, as he stroked her back and murmured comforting words into her ear.

"I've hoped there was something between us as well, Arica, but I was not completely certain of your feelings. I promise you, I will do my best to return to you, but my path is set. I must do this."

Her heart fell as the importance of his words sunk into her psyche. He was going to leave her and nothing she could say would influence him into changing his mind.

"Besides, Arica, for us to truly have a relationship, we need to be completely honest and truthful with each other and we cannot do that with you continuing to hide part of yourself from me. I want to know you - everything about you, but until you let me in, the future you desire cannot be."

The specter of Solo's words from the afternoon ghosted into her consciousness and a fleeting moment of panic set in. As the former smuggler had predicted, Skywalker had not been fooled for an instant by her deception. It had all been for naught.

"What makes you think I'm hiding things?" she queried, too drained to think of anything else to say.

"How about the way you hid part of yourself away from me just now?" he asked, his voice calm and measured. "I don't know what you're hiding, Arica, but I can sense it's something you think I will hate you for. Don't you think I should be given the opportunity to determine my own reaction?"

Mara's voice failed her and her jaw worked silently. She had been less successful than she had imagined in hiding herself from him.

"Can you tell me what this great secret is?"

Her mind worked furiously, but try as she might, she could not think of any way out of this. Skywalker had seen through her and although he was willing to trust her, he was not willing to take her at face value. For a moment, her secret almost spilled out of her.

But then she remembered the things she had done in the Emperor's service: her first kill, the parts she had played to gain a target's confidence in order to get close enough for the killing blow... the fact that she had been sent to kill Skywalker himself. Her relationship with him seemed to be spinning out of her grasp, never to be within her reach again. But whatever was to happen, she knew she would be unable to stand the weight of his anger - or even worse, his disgust - over her past. She simply could not tell him.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Skywalker," she responded, the lie bitter on her tongue.

Skywalker regarded her with compassion and leaned forward to kiss her on the forehead. To her it seemed a harbinger of the ultimate farewell she knew she was bidding to her dreams.

"Arica, I'm not accusing you of anything evil or underhanded. I just want you to be up front with me. Please, stay with the group; help them bring down the shield. We will discuss this further when I return."

Mara stood rooted to the spot as he moved away, his gait steady and certain. Her thoughts were a jumble of warring states, bidding for supremacy over her consciousness. All her plans were in shambles, accomplished in the space of a few minutes, torn down by Skywalker's pointed observations, keen intelligence and stubborn adherence to a child's dream.

At length, she glanced around her, the tears streaming down her cheeks unheeded. What was she to do? Should she stay with the rebels and help them bring down the shield as he requested?

As soon as the thought occurred to her, she knew she was incapable of following his wishes. She simply had to be close to him when he met his fate, whether or not she could take the emotional and psychic fallout such an event was certain to expose her to. Besides, if the Jedi were to fail, as she suspected would be the case, she would have to be there when he was brought to her master.

She laughed, abruptly and brokenly at the thought as she remembered the Emperor's assertions during their conversation when she had been on Dagobah. It was all happening the way her master had assured her it would - Skywalker giving himself up willingly to be led to her master as he had predicted. She was a fool to have believed anything else.

Silent as a ghost, Mara edged forward, creeping down the stairs which led to the foot of the forest below, her senses casting after the retreating Skywalker. She would follow him to the base, use her codes as Emperor's hand to commandeer a ship and make her way to the Death Star in another manner, follow her master's orders to be there when the Jedi was brought to him. Skywalker should be sufficiently preoccupied with the confrontation with his father, she should be able to arrive unnoticed and undetected by the last Jedi.

With any luck, the rebels would eliminate the shield protecting the Death Star, and she could at least die with him when it was destroyed.

* * *

Luke travelled through the forest, his thoughts focused on his self-appointed task. The thoughts of what and who he had left behind were too painful to dwell upon. Tonight, he would be the Jedi Ben and Yoda expected him to be, the Jedi his father could have been if he had chosen more wisely.

It was several miles to the base and Luke felt the chilly night air beginning to be uncomfortable by the time he reached the vicinity of the base. It was laughably easy to avoid the patrols of stormtroopers which circled the installation and protected the base. Their minds were as weak and malleable as Ben had once told him.

Finally, upon reaching the innermost perimeter of the installation's defenses, Luke allowed himself to be captured by a pair of stormtroopers. They confiscated his lightsaber and placed binders on his wrists, leading him to the watch commander in a nearby office. The watch commander was no better than the troops under his command, easily dominated by Luke and forced to take his nominal prisoner before the dark lord.

In a matter of moments his objective was obtained and he stood before the intimidating presence of his father. Luke tried to consider his father objectively. Certainly the darkness was present - he would hardly have expected it to be gone over a matter of a few mere months and one conversation with his son, a conversation held over crossed lightsabers, no less.

But for Luke, he found faith that his hope had not been in vain. The dark lord brooded behind his mask and to the world he was the same black fiend he had always been. But to Luke, the underlying conflict between the man he had been for all those years and the father, which he now knew himself to be was obvious and pronounced. If Luke could only widen those cracks, allow the man he had been to emerge, he would accomplish his goal and release his father from his servitude to the darkness.

"So, you have come to me."

The mechanical noise of his breathing apparatus leant a sinister air to the deep and layered voice. But where before the noise had brought fear and uncertainty to the young Jedi, now it engendered... not pity, for his father would not accept that - either as he was now, or as he had been before he became Darth Vader. No, Luke could now feel sadness for the man that had once been and for the torment his father had endured over the years since he had been confined to that infernal suit. Luke had no knowledge of what had led his father to renounce the Jedi and join a being as reprehensible as Palaptine, but he knew that to a certain extent, the suffering he had undergone and still endured was in part responsible for the being his father was now.

"I have."

The dark lord seemed to take his son's new-found confidence as natural and continued. "The Emperor is expecting you. He believes you will soon be a powerful new ally."

"I know... father. But I can tell you right now, he will be disappointed. I will never swear fealty to him."

"So, you have finally accepted the truth," Vader replied, ignoring for a time his son's statement of affiliation.

"I have accepted the truth you were once Anakin Skywalker, my father."

"That name no longer has any meaning for me. You had best forget it and be content in relegating it to the past where it belongs."

Knowing he was playing with fire, Luke nevertheless continued with his plan. His father was closer to Anakin than he himself realized. "It is the name of your true self. You have only forgotten it."

The dark lord said nothing, but Luke could feel his indecision grow, which in turn bolstered Luke's confidence. "I know there is good in you yet, father, the Emperor has not driven it away completely. That is why you could not destroy me before. That is why you won't take me to your Emperor now."

The dark lord was still silent, the only response given was the ignition of Luke's lightsaber which lay casually in the grasp of one gloved hand. "You have constructed another lightsaber," he commented at length.

Luke smiled slightly at the note of praise in his father's voice. "This one is mine. Yours was lost on Bespin as you well know."

The blade retracted and Vader turned to face his son. "Your skills are complete. You are powerful as the Emperor has foreseen - a worthy addition to our ranks."

"Father, you are deluding yourself. You know the Emperor is cunning and cruel, do you really think he will allow us both to exist under his command? He would always be under the threat of us joining together to betray him. He would never take the chance."

"You do not know my master as well as you think, my son," Vader corrected. "The only thing he thinks about is power and having you call him master only increases that power. He will do anything to maintain this new order he has created and sees you as the means to do so."

"What of your role, father?"

"I am as I always was. I will continue to be my master's right hand and you will be his left."

Luke shook his head, his mind desperately trying to think of anything which would sway his father's mind. The cracks in his carefully held persona were still there, but nothing he had tried yet had been able to free the man he had once been.

"You are forgetting one thing, father. I will not turn. You will be forced to destroy me."

"If that is your destiny."

"Search your feelings father," Luke urged, trying one last desperate sally against his father's defenses. "You can't do this. Let go of your hate and come away with me. Together we can end this pointless war, not with the power of dark side as you once suggested, but with the power of the Jedi. Let's defeat the Emperor and bring freedom back to the galaxy."

"Some one has filled your head with foolish ideals, young one," Vader replied, immovable as a mountain. He signaled to the troops which had withdrawn a respectful distance away to approach. "The Emperor will show you the true nature of the Force. He is your master now."

Miserable at his failure, Luke could only watch as the stormtroopers approached to take him into custody once more, the shattered ashes of his plans falling about his feet as so much dross. So miserable was he, he almost missed his father's final words, softly delivered so that no one else could hear.

"It's too late for me."

"Then my father is truly dead," Luke responded as he turned away with the guards.

He stepped away from the man who was his father and escorted by the guards, made his way toward the shuttle which was to take him to his fate. His progress was interrupted by the sound of his father's voice; the sardonic amusement flowed off him in waves.

"So good of you to join us, Emperor's Hand."


	14. Chapter 13

**A/N:** Thanks once again to everyone who has reviewed this fic. We are on the home stretch now, with only a few chapters left to go.

**Chapter 13**

Mara Jade, Emperor's Hand, was in a foul mood.

Nothing about this day had gone as planned, from Vader's presence on the command ship, to the disappearance and finding of the princess, to Skywalker's insistence on committing suicide and giving himself up to Vader. The hope she had felt when they left the rebel fleet had been strong and thus the disappointment at this turn of events equally intense.

And now, her plans in ashes around her feet, she found herself enduring further humiliation and hurt, escorted through the spartan corridors of the Imperial base protecting the all-important deflector shield. She had been silent as the night when she had made her way through the forest, intent on speaking to the base commander, revealing the secret codes her master had given her and commandeering a ship to get off of the moon. Unfortunately, it seemed, fate had had other plans. It was almost as thought the stormtroopers stationed at the base had known she was coming.

And she knew they had. The destruction of all her dreams and Skywalker's departure had affected her so severely she had neglected to take everything into account and had forgotten one important fact: Vader.

Even now Mara was angry with herself, knowing she had miscalculated badly, so concerned had she been to make certain she was not left behind. As Skywalker drew near to the base, he had almost certainly drawn Vader's attention and sensing her presence following behind, had undoubtedly been no great feat for a Force user the caliber of the black giant.

At least, she hoped that was what had happened – any other possibilities she had thus far assiduously avoided considering. If her master had sensed her intentions…

Mara shuddered and forced her fear of that eventuality down deep within her mind. She had no illusions as to what his response would be if he knew of her rebellious thoughts and feelings.

She sighed as she was marched through the corridors, knowing Skywalker would learn of her perfidy shortly. There was nothing she could possibly do to avoid the confrontation now – all of her hopes and work was now for naught.

They reached a junction in the corridor and were abruptly stopped, as an officer of the Imperial fleet stepped out and regarded her with an inordinate amount of curiosity. "Mara Jade, I believe."

Mara sucked in a breath of horror. This man, a mere officer, knowing the real name of the Emperor's most trusted and secret assassin was not a development she wished to dwell on.

"Lord Vader has been expecting you," the man continued and after favoring her with a leer and a long look up and down her body, he walked away, motioning the troopers to follow.

Mara suppressed a shudder at the look of open appraisal and lust in his eyes and followed along after him, repeating to herself that as the Emperor's favored servant, she was safe from such men as the officer.

All too soon, they had reached their destination; the door slid open and she was ushered into another corridor. On the far side, being led away, was Skywalker. His Force sense was morose, but strangely resolute – clearly the outcome he had hoped for when he had arrived had not come to fruition. The knowledge that there was nothing he could do to convince his father seemed to weigh down on him like a physical weight, but for all that she could tell he was firm in his resolution to do what he felt was right. Feeling she still had a chance to avoid the confrontation, Mara determined to keep silent until he was gone; she glanced up at Vader, to see him regarding her. Of course, the mask hid his facial expression, but his sense reeked of amusement and glee.

"So good of you to join us, Emperor's Hand."

* * *

The sound of Vader's voice rumbled throughout the corridor and as he heard his father's voice, Luke suddenly became aware of another presence, one which had been growing on his mind, but he had not realized was quite so close.

Whirling around, he peered down the corridor, his worst fears confirmed, his immediately coming to rest on the woman who had in a short period of time become such an essential part of his life. She stood at the end of the corridor, flanked by two stormtroopers and an officer, her eyes were downcast, and he thought she appeared to have a slight blush on her features.

Luke took at step forward, only to come up against the raised blasters of his two stormtrooper guards. Incensed at their interference, Luke gestured with a hand and the two guards staggered back to collide with the wall and fall in a heap behind him. He paid no more attention to them than one would an insect and strode back toward his father and the woman he had come to know so well. Vader's gesture to the two troopers barely registering, Luke stalked forward, his attention solely on the woman who still refused to look up at him.

"Arica," he breathed as he approached.

Vader's laughter interrupted him and he stopped short. "That's what she called herself this time, did she?"

His sense was vastly amused and it caused Luke to pause. What had his father called her? 'Emperor's Hand?'

"Arica?" he asked again, this time hesitant, not certain if he even wanted an answer.

Arica's answer was a deep sigh and a sorrowful glance up at him; the pain in her eyes was almost more than he could bear. Her gaze immediately dropped back down to the floor.

"Guards, leave us," Vader commanded and they filed out with alacrity.

For Luke, however, none of this existed, his attention fixed upon the woman standing before him. She had thus far refused to answer him, causing him pain, but making him all the more determined to get to the bottom of this mystery.

"Arica, I told you to stay away from this. What have you done?"

"I wouldn't count on this one to obey. At least not you…"

Luke turned his gaze on Vader and stared the Sith Lord down. "Why don't you let Arica respond?" he said, his voice filled with all the dislike and disdain he felt for his father's person, which seemed to come naturally from some well of feeling he had not known even existed.

"It doesn't seem like she wants to, now does it?" the Sith Lord responded, completely unconcerned at his son's visible display of anger. "You have become powerful, my son, but there is much you still need to learn. Trusting one such as this will only see you betrayed."

"One such as what? Arica, what is going on here? Why does my father know you?"

"I'm sorry," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "I never meant it to turn out this way."

Again the Dark Lord laughed. "And what other way could it turn out? You had better not let your master hear you speaking in such a manner."

The dread had begun to build in Luke and for a moment he could not breathe. Her _master?_ What was Vader talking about?

"It would be better for you, my son, if you would not trust this one – anything you say will be related back to my master without delay, as I have discovered myself. You are looking at one of the Emperor's most favored assassins, known as the Emperor's Hands. She is nothing more than a lap dog, waiting on my master's orders."

"And you are not?" Luke snapped, the anger at his father's words the only lifeline to a belief he was rapidly losing the ability to rationalize.

"I am a Sith Lord," Vader boomed, real anger shining in his voice. "You would do well to remember it."

At the same time, Arica looked up at Vader, her eyes sharp and focused. "What do you mean, 'one of the Emperor's Hands'? I am _the_ Emperor's Hand!"

"You are a fool if you believe that. You are simply the most useful as you are not only Force sensitive, but also able to hear his voice anywhere."

At her look of utter astonishment, Vader chuckled and continued. "Yes, Emperor's Hand, I know of your little ability. You would be well advised to forget any ideas of your own indispensability – my master will discard you without a moment's thought if you prove unfaithful."

The look of trepidation on Arica's face gave way to alarm and her eyes once more found the ground at her feet, her former defiance bleeding out of her almost visibly.

It was all starting to make a certain horrible sense to Luke. In his mind's eye, he replayed little incidents from the past few weeks, the sense of her presence in Jabba's throne room, the sight of her standing behind him with blaster raised, the uncomfortable feeling she had displayed when he had happened on her outside Ben's hut. Added to that, he remembered her refusal to tell him of her background, the way her story had always rung false to his ears, the disdain and dislike she had shown toward him when they had first met. Han's caution to him, Leia's immediate and seemingly unreasonable distrust and dislike of her, were all laid out in his mind's eye. Had she been hiding a dark secret from him? Had she drawn him in, gotten him to trust her? Had she wormed her way into his life, gotten him to develop feelings for her, when all she had wanted the whole time was to hand him over to the Emperor in a pretty package like some fete week gift?

Pushing all these thoughts away, Luke regarded the woman who had become so dear to him. He had to know the truth.

"Arica, please tell me. Who are you?"

Another loud sigh and she looked up, her eyes only rising to his chin. "I am who Lord Vader said I was. I am the Emperor's Hand and I was sent to kill you."

Vader's reaction was swift, as he had her by the throat in an instant. "You lie!"

Arica shook her head furiously, the fear in her eyes visible to Luke's vision.

"Father, I think you should let her speak," Luke said, his voice quiet, yet authoritative.

Vader hesitated for a moment, then he released Arica, allowing her to stagger back against the wall, one hand rising to massage her throat.

"Speak, Emperor's Hand, if you value your life."

Mara glanced up at him, her expression betraying a sullen anger. "Your _master_ sent me to kill your son, _my lord._" Her tone was brimming with sarcasm and dislike. "I was to infiltrate Jabba's palace and terminate Skywalker's life at my earliest opportunity."

"Why didn't you?" Luke replied, afraid to hear the answer.

"I never had the chance."

Luke was confused at her assertions as he was certain she had had several opportunities to kill him if she had so chosen. Vader's reaction to this statement was not as violent as the last, but no less intense… Luke could sense a note of uncertainty which had penetrated his sense.

"My master told me he had sent you to bring my son in, not kill him."

"That only came after. The day after I met him, the Emperor contacted me. When he learned I had failed, he was very displeased, but then changed my orders and instructed me to bring Skywalker to him instead." She glanced at Luke and a tight-lipped smile formed on her face. "You should feel special, Skywalker, you're the only one in my experience to ever have termination orders rescinded."

Luke was speechless, caught up as he was in the horror of what he was hearing. His father, however, was not.

"Should I find out you're lying to me…" He left the sentence unfinished, but the menace and threat in his voice was unmistakable.

Arica passed a weary hand over her eyes and looked up at him, her face devoid of all emotion. Luke had not seen her countenance assume such an expression since very early in their acquaintance. He new instinctively this was the face she presented to the galaxy. But what did it hide – the woman she had undoubtedly been or the woman she had become in the space of the few short days he had known her? Her sense was locked down with her tightest shields, but Luke had come to know her better than even the Emperor, he sensed. And what he felt from her was defeat and more than a little fear.

"I suggest you bring this up with the Emperor, Lord Vader," she responded, her mask firmly in place, a look of utter confidence on her features.

"You can be certain I shall," was the reply.

At a gesture from Vader, the guards returned and he was escorted to the waiting shuttle.

* * *

Was it true?

Vader watched the retreating form of his son and for the first time in a very long time felt an emotion he had not felt in a very long time and did not like in the least – uncertainty. Not even learning of his child, whom he had thought long dead along with his mother, had affected him to this extent. Then it had been rage at Obi-Wan for hiding his son from him all these years and turning the boy so decidedly against him… for creating the circumstance which had led him to unknowingly almost kill his only child. The image of his fingers poised over the trigger of his TIE fighter's laser cannons, aiming at the ship unknowingly piloted by his only son, still had the power to cause most unpleasant dreams.

Had his master, knowing how important it was to find his son and make him see the true path of his destiny, sent his most trusted assassin to kill him? And what would his master have told him if Jade had been successful in her endeavor?

He knew the Emperor; knew the way his mind worked, the viciousness, the belief in his own inherent rightness and conviction that whatever he did in his own interest was justified. It was an uncomfortable truth, but Vader knew in his heart that if his master had deemed his son too much of a danger, he would have ordered his death with no compunction at all.

But was that what had happened in this case? Perhaps there was another explanation… Jade was resourceful and well trained, but then her target had been a Force user of such power – perhaps Vader or Palpatine's equal. Could she have been sent as an experiment, a test of his son's abilities?

It was certainly possible, but Vader did not allow himself to think for one moment the situation was not exactly what she claimed. There may have been an element of testing in Palpatine's intent, but Vader was certain the elimination of his son was exactly what she had been sent for. The mere thought made his blood boil with rage.

With an effort he calmed himself; it would do no good to march into his master's presence demanding answers and spewing epithets. Whatever Vader had learned in the past twenty years at the side of his master, patience was foremost among them. Yes, he could bide his time, wait for the appropriate moment to strike, and hopefully, he would have the assistance of his son when he finally did move against his master.

With an effort, Vader brought his thoughts and machinations under control, aware of the presence of the young woman beside him. He glanced sidelong at her – or at least as much as he was able to do in the cursed helmet he was stuck with. She stood to the side, patiently waiting his pleasure, but through the Force he could detect her uncertainty and nervousness. She was lucky, he mused, to have escaped his displeasure unscathed – there were very few who had. It would not do to show his displeasure to her – she was still very much Palpatine's creature. Although… there was something else going on here… something he could not quite detect. A careful questioning of the young woman might lead it out into the open.

"What is your impression of my son, Emperor's Hand?"

She started and peered up at him, obvious to his senses she had not expected the question. "What would you like to know, my Lord?"

"General impressions. You've been with him for several weeks now, according to my master, and I would like to know what you thought of him."

She seemed to consider the question carefully, causing him to smile without mirth – she had learned the perils of angering him.

"He's like no one I've ever met. He has a… competence and confidence which are compelling. For all that, he appears to have led a very sheltered life as a child. At times he seems as if he's the wisest being in the galaxy and at others his naïveté is infuriating."

"And his Force skills?"

"He is very competent, my Lord. Everything he does seems to be done with little effort and thought, yet seems so natural. He knows little of the actual lightsaber forms, but yet is so instinctual with the weapon – I'm not exactly an expert on the forms myself, but I can't imagine someone having so much skill with so little training."

Her praise of his son caused a smile to appear on Vader's masked face, heedless of the discomfort it caused the unused muscles and scarring left on his face. He would never admit, even to himself, it was the result of fatherly pride. The manner in which she spoke also confirmed his suspicions of her feelings toward his son, her sense giving off subtle hints he recognized due to his own experience with Padmé in the past.

Padmé… he had not thought of her in some time, had pushed all thoughts of her and what he had lost when she died to the furthest corners of his mind. In fact, the first time in years he had allowed himself to think of her was on that day, almost four years earlier when he discovered the true identity of the pilot who had fired the shot which had destroyed the Death Star. That his angel had died giving birth to such a son was comforting to him, adding to the relief he had felt when he found out the boy's identity. Not only had he not killed his wife, as he had believed all those years, but she had given birth to an exceptional son, one who was a fitting and worthy successor to his father's legacy.

Coming back to the moment, Vader regarded Jade with a dispassionate eye. She was tough and resourceful he knew, but he was keenly aware of the way his master had pitted them against each other, especially in the past few years as she had matured. He had responded by ignoring her as much as possible, refusing to play Palpatine's game, and as such, did not know her as well as perhaps he should have. Outside of his master's command to give her the required lessons with respect to the lightsaber forms, he had essentially avoided her whenever possible.

And yet, having been young and desperately in love once himself, he knew the signs, could tell that in the short time of their acquaintance, she had somehow developed feelings for his son, although he suspected she was not fully conscious of that fact herself. If his son's reaction to her had been any indication, the feelings were reciprocated. Yes she would be a worthy consort for his son. She was Force strong and not unattractive and if they were both so inclined, something which he was certain they were, they would be able to carry on the Skywalker line which was destined to rule the galaxy.

For the first time in a very long time, he felt the stirrings of… something… a depth of emotion for his son – and perhaps even the young woman standing at his side – which had nothing to do with the ambition for power and domination. The feelings were… unsettling to the dark lord and yet somehow fitting. The image of his dead wife once again flashed across his mind's eye.

Banishing his thoughts to the depths of his consciousness, Vader turned his attention on Jade once again. "You have done well, Emperor's Hand, but I would caution you to bury your feelings deep down if you wish to remain in your master's good standing."

Jade swallowed, her apprehension showing, but inclined her head.

"My son has passed your test and now that I have seen his competence, I'm certain he will make an excellent addition to the Sith order."

She looked startled at his statement, but masked her confusion behind a guarded question. "You think my mission was just a test for Skywalker?"

"I do."

She was silent, struggling, he thought, with her disagreement with his statement, yet not wanting to anger him again. Caution won out as she merely inclined her head and awaited his pleasure. Good; this careful and thoughtful Jade was of far more use to his plans than the angry, impulsive and sometimes hot-headed young woman he had known before. If she was to be his son's consort, she would of necessity become a Sith, and Sith, although they made use of their emotions to heighten their powers, could not afford to be ruled by them. He had learned that particular lesson himself.

"Go now to the shuttle and stay with Skywalker." She blanched at this directive, but stayed silent nevertheless. "I will make the arrangements and we will leave to join my master directly. What of the other rebels in the area? What are their plans?"

"I know nothing of their plans, my Lord. I was included in the mission only at Skywalker's insistence. I was not trusted."

Vader knew she was being evasive, but her sense told him she was at least partially speaking the truth. Before he had seen her in a new light, he would have forced the information out of her, but as it stood, he suspected she had little useful information. Besides, a small band of rebels would find it virtually impossible to assault the heavily defended installation successfully, so her reticence was of little consequence.

"Very well. Go to my son in the shuttle and wait there. I will join you directly."

* * *

Luke Skywalker stared at the binders which circled his wrists, thinking dejectedly back on the revelations of the past few moments. Arica – a servant of the Emperor. One of the most trusted servants of the Emperor, no less. How could he have been so blind?

Miserably, Luke glanced over the stark walls of the shuttle, desperate to get his mind off the betrayal, willing himself to think of something else. The situation was grim, but not lost. He was stuck on an Imperial shuttle on his way to meet the most powerful and evil man in the galaxy, one he had trusted had betrayed him while the other he had hoped to redeem remained deaf to his pleas. He thought of using the Force on the guards, escaping into the forest, but as soon as the thought crossed his mind, he knew he was where he was meant to be. The epiphany he had reached in the Ewok village seemed to be confirmed – for whatever reason, he was meant to brave the enemy on his own ground and if Luke had learned nothing else, it was to trust in the Force.

The resolve to see this through did nothing for his feelings of unease and he was unable to concentrate on anything other than the coming struggle. If the Emperor had wanted him dead, he would be so now and Arica's revelation of the rescinded assassination order only proved what he suspected and what his father had revealed on Bespin and just now in the base. The Emperor wanted him for his skills, for the possibility of turning him as he had turned his father all those years ago. It was up to Luke to be strong and to resist the temptation to give into his anger and despair.

Trying to be rational under the circumstances, Luke considered the possible courses of action he had available to him. While there was the chance – and a very good one if he knew Han and Leia at all – of the Death Star being destroyed, he knew he could not risk being executed himself before he was certain the Emperor would not outlast him for any length of time. That meant ensuring the evil old man was gone before he himself was to become one with the Force.

Survival? Right now that possibility seemed remote, given his situation, and although he did not feel himself ready to die, he knew the trade off to be worth it. No, he could not count on being able to save himself and any thought of doing so must give way to the necessity of seeing Palpatine and his reign of terror ended. Anything less would be a betrayal of Ben, Yoda and all those who had depended on him.

Content with his decision, Luke leaned back against the wall and opened his eyes, just as the door slid open. Arica stood in the doorway, her eyes downcast and embarrassed. Her hair was slightly mussed and there were smudges on her cheeks, no doubt a result of the trip through the forest. Even through that and the dark circles under her eyes, Luke had never found her to be more beautiful. This, of course, made it all the more painful as he considered what had happened between them and thought she was now forever beyond his reach.

He peered at her intently, willing her to give some indication of the feelings which he had been certain were shared, but she refused to meet his gaze. Had it had been nothing more than a game to her – a mission to be completed for her master? Luke could not understand how he had been so blind – the currents which seemed to course between them since they were together had obviously been a fabrication, born of the desire to be loved. How could he have been so utterly blind?

"So, I guess you got what you wanted, didn't you?" he finally said, deliberately injecting a measure of sarcasm into his voice.

"What do you mean?"

He laughed, a hollow, bitter sound. "Me, trussed up like some side of nerf steaks, off to be given to that grasping, evil manipulator you call a master."

"I wanted?" Her voice was incredulous. "I'm sorry, but I seem to remember asking you… no, _begging_ you not to do this. Was I mistaken?"

"You didn't want me to do this? Isn't this what you wanted? What about your _orders?"_

"What about them?" she asked, immediately defensive.

"You've fulfilled them, haven't you? Now it's back to the master, the pat on the back and the new set of orders. How do you live with yourself?"

The fury which assaulted his Force senses was almost palpable and he glanced up at her to see her eyes almost glowing with suppressed anger. He had never seen such a look on her face before.

"How _dare_ you judge me," she rasped, tears beginning fall from the corners of her eyes. "You know _nothing _about me… about my life."

"How could I? You wouldn't tell me."

"Can you blame me? When you sit there and judge me, spout off about how evil I am, I can see I was right not to confide in you. You're just like… just… you're no better than my master."

"_I'm_ no better than your master? That's a laugh."

"Yes, you!" She was almost yelling by now. "You talk about how righteous you are and how you follow the Force. Yet you know nothing about me and you sit here judging me as if you were the final executor of the will of the Force. And all that posturing you did, trying to get me to believe you cared. I should have known you would be like all the other men… no one has ever looked at me to see beyond my looks to who I was. You're no different."

Luke laughed again, his voice harsh and raw to his own ears. "Well I guess the joke's on me, then. I had begun… I had… feelings for you."

There, it was out. What he had not even acknowledged to himself was plain for her to see. Now she could laugh at him and congratulate herself in a job well done and move on to her next assignment in the knowledge she had defeated him utterly.

"What?" she breathed, her eyes open wide.

Luke regarded her, troubled, not knowing whether she was still acting or was truly as surprised as she appeared to his eyes. It was, he reflected, of little consequence; whether she had known of his feelings or not, there was little point in keeping it from her now.

"I… I've grown to love you, Arica.

The silence was acute and something akin to wonder shone in her eyes. Luke, however, could see nothing beyond the bitterness of the wreck of his dreams.

"There, you have it – it's out. Now, if you don't mind I'd appreciate it if you would leave and enjoy your triumph without gloating over me."

"You… love me?"

"I said it, didn't I? Skywalker the fool… always looking in, always loving without it being returned. I guess I was the fool yet again."

"Who said it wasn't returned?"

The quietly voiced statement brought him up, but even more so was the conviction in her voice, the way her sense shined through to meet with his, mingling in an exquisite rapport. He glanced up at her to see tears running down her face, her beautiful, expressive eyes holding a depth of pain which almost took his breath away.

Almost involuntarily, Luke began to think back over the time they had been together and the thoughts and convictions he held dear, but also the hints and clues she had let slip. She had not been truthful with him, that much was abundantly clear. But as he considered the things she had said, the reason for her reticence was becoming blurry, the motivations he had attributed to her growing more indistinct as her sense shone through to him.

He remembered the fear he had sensed from her on more than one occasion, not the least of which had been the night before, when he had pleaded for him to stay. Suddenly he was not certain of what he had held as truth and an alternate explanation began to make its way through his mind. She was afraid – afraid of her master… afraid of losing him.

Beyond this, of course, was the fact that she had had several opportunities to kill him before her orders were changed and yet, she had not taken them. Why had she let him live, when she had been commanded to take his life, knowing the Emperor's displeasure which awaited her failure?

The time was at hand. He needed to know the truth about her – then he would know how to act. Her gaze had dropped to the floor, although the tears still streamed down her face unabated. Luke berated himself for not trusting what he felt from her through the Force. There still may be a chance to repair the damage which had been done. After all, he was willing to forgive his father, a being whose evil deeds had far outstripped hers in the course of the last two decades. If he could forgive that, how could he not forgive her?

He gazed at her, taking in the glistening tears as they spilled from her eyes to impact the floor, each one a precious crystal, shattered along with her hopes and dreams. But he did not allow himself to comfort her, much as he wanted to… He was too uncertain of her, the feelings too raw and misunderstood to take that step, to open up his heart further until he was certain.

"Arica." Her eyes rose to meet his once again and he smiled in encouragement. "Please, Arica, I need to know everything."

She tensed and appeared ready to flee, but forced herself under control with a visible effort. This, he sensed, was the crux of her fear and he knew that somehow it centered around himself. He suspected she was frightened of what he would think of her, but now that her secret was out, it seemed a little late to be worried about his feelings. He would have to coax her to reveal all, knowing she would have to decide for herself what side she would ultimately choose.

She began talking, hesitantly, but gaining confidence as she continued. "I am who Lord Vader said I was. I'm known only to the Emperor and Vader as the Emperor's Hand. To the rest of the Imperial court, I'm one of his Majesty's dancers."

"How long have you served the Emperor?"

She tilted her head at him, a quizzical expression on her face. "Ever since I can remember. I have no memories of my previous life or my parents."

"Were you never curious of where you came from?"

"I was, but questions were frowned on and I learned very quickly to accept my lot in life and not question my master about such frivolous concerns.

Luke was taken aback by her statement and wondered exactly how the Emperor had dissuaded her from asking her questions. Knowing the Emperor, at least by reputation, Luke decided the object lessons had likely been rather painful and pointed, and it was probably better not to ask her to relive those memories.

"I was brought up in the Emperor's court," she continued. "I was trained in every discipline possible, from explosives and demolitions to hand to hand combat."

The admission seemed to pain her, but she seemed to gather her courage and press on. "I was sent on my first mission at the age of twelve and thereafter, was sent out more and more frequently until I became his most trusted servant, other than Lord Vader – his only servant, or so I thought."

Luke was aghast. "You were sent to kill someone at the age of twelve?"

She nodded her head. "He was a moff whom the Emperor suspected of lining his own pockets and having ties to the Emperor's political enemies and I was to make an example of him. He also had a predilection toward young girls and as such, I was the perfect tool for the task."

Disgusted at the depravity of the man, Luke could only look away and take deep breaths, trying to control the anger which was building with her confession. "The bastard… He deserves to die a thousand times for this alone. Sending a twelve year old girl to seduce a man and then kill him."

"I wasn't commanded to seduce him," she responded quickly. "In fact, although he's always expected me to use every weapon at my disposal, including my… femininity, he's never commanded me to seduce anyone. At least, not until…"

Instantly Luke understood her meaning, as she glanced away in embarrassment, her cheeks coloring. Yet now was not the time to discuss it, he sensed, as she had more to say.

"By the time I was sixteen, I knew the strengths and weaknesses of every major sentient species in the galaxy and could kill most of them with nothing more than my hands. As I grew older, I began to be sent out more and more frequently, until the past year, I have spent more time away from the Emperor's court than in it."

"What kind of missions were you sent on?"

She shrugged as though it was of no consequence. "Just about anything you can imagine, really. Intelligence gathering, assassination, espionage, stealing technology… My master expected me to be able to complete whatever I was assigned, quickly, efficiently and without getting caught. I was the Ace in the Emperor's Sabaac hand."

Luke was silent while he considered this intelligence. Telling him had been difficult, unsurprisingly, but the nuances of her stilted delivery caused him to consider all she had not told him yet. That she was competent and exceptionally well trained he had no doubt – he had seen enough of her in action to understand that fact. But how did she feel about the things she had been commanded to do? She had not let much slip – her delivery, while hesitant, was almost mechanical – and Luke was almost desperate to know how she felt about it all. He would have to press her for more information, convince her to reveal what was in her heart before he would know how to act.

"And this mission? What were you commanded with respect to me?"

She let out a long breath almost as though she had been holding it. It was clear she had been hoping to avoid this topic.

"I was given this mission a little over a month ago. My orders were simple: infiltrate Jabba's palace using my cover as a dancer and wait until you arrived to rescue Solo. Then I was to… eliminate my target."

The explanation was succinct and pointed, but told Luke nothing of her motives.

"And? What happened?"

"You were there, weren't you?"

Her evasiveness was beginning to cause Luke some exasperation. "Yes, I was there, Arica. What I would like to know is what happened to cause the Emperor to change his mind regarding me. Regardless of what you told my _father_ back there, you had plenty of opportunities to kill me. What about the barge? You were standing behind me with your blaster pointed right at me; why didn't you pull the trigger?"

"I don't know."

This simple statement was not what Luke would have expected to hear, but he sensed this time it was better to let her respond without any pressure from him. She appeared to struggle with the question and he thought she may have some idea of what prevented her from doing as she was commanded, but she was having difficulty saying what she thought. Her fidgeting hands and perplexed expression were testament to her confusion as to her own motives.

"I don't know," she repeated at last, daring to sneak a glance at his face. Her gaze immediately dropped as she continued. "I had… waited for you to make your way to the end of the deck, confident I would be given a… an opportunity during the confusion of the melee. But when I had the chance, I… hesitated… I don't know why – I've never hesitated before in my life. It was as if my training deserted me or something intervened. I can't explain it."

"And then?" Luke prompted.

Arica shrugged. "Jabba's thug stepped out of his hiding place and I reacted without thinking. The next morning the Emperor contacted me and although he was angry with my failure he rescinded my orders."

Luke was stunned as he remembered the events of that morning. "That's what woke me up."

At Arica's quizzical look he continued. "I woke up that morning feeling the presence of some great evil, but as I was investigating it disappeared. That's when I found you outside the hut."

"That is why I left – I was afraid you would recognize the Emperor was contacting me and I would be exposed."

"So what is it like? Being able to contact the Emperor, I mean."

She once again fidgeted as the question was posed, obviously uncomfortable speaking with him about her connection with his greatest enemy. He could not call her a coward, however, as she visibly bucked up her courage.

"I'm not certain how to describe it. I know when he is trying to contact me and I can contact him if the need is great, although I'm not as proficient. I've never known anything else, so I don't know how to describe it any better than that."

"Do you think you and I could speak like that?"

Arica's eyes widened in surprise and she seemed to consider the question. "Why do you ask?"

"Just curious," Luke responded, not certain himself why he asked. "You know my training is patchy at best, but I know it's possible for Force users to speak to each other in their minds. My father has done it with me in the past."

Nodding her head thoughtfully, Arica responded, "It is possible, I suppose. The Emperor told me before that he and Vader can communicate, although not to the extent and distance he can communicate with me – apparently it's my talent to be able to speak over great distances."

Luke nodded, his mind going over the possibilities of such a talent. However, they would have to escape from the Emperor intact before a way could be found to utilize this ability.

"What were the Emperor's new commands?"

The uncomfortable feeling returned with a vengeance and her gaze dropped down to the deck yet again. He could almost see her gathering her courage to continue with her narrative.

"I was told to stay with you, get you to trust me, learn all I could about you and your abilities. He also commanded me to… sleep with you if I could manage it."

"He wanted me to be tied to you emotionally, didn't he?"

"I can only presume; he gave me no further details – he never does. I'm always just his servant and I'm told nothing more than he thinks I need to know."

She fell silent, leaving Luke to consider all she had told him. Her story rang true, confirmed not only by what he had learned from Vader and seen with his own eyes, but also through the Force. But somehow he knew there was more. She had been commanded to accompany him and possibly even seduce him, but somehow it had not happened. He remembered back to the kiss on the ship when she had run away from him – the emotions coursing through both of them had not been feigned, he was certain. He knew their relationship had gone beyond hunter and prey.

"So why didn't you?"

She regarded him, the fire and life normally present in her beautiful jade eyes dimmed, their light almost extinguished in the wake of her confession.

"Seduce you?" At his nod she continued. "I… shied away from it… tried to forget it… I couldn't…"

Once again the tears began to fall, but Luke held himself back. He needed to know, needed to understand – it was almost a desperate physical longing – whether he had just been another mission, another target to charm with her beauty. He needed to know if he had been different.

"You have to understand," she began, her voice soft and almost inaudible, "I was never specifically commanded to seduce anyone before. It was always understood I was to use every tool at my disposal – even my looks – to accomplish a mission. I have been in situations where seducing a target would have made things much… easier, but I've always managed to complete my missions without having to resort to that. It's always been the one thing that was mine to give to a man of my own choosing. To have that taken away from me by my master… it was… painful."

"Is that why you ran away from me when we kissed?"

"Partially."

She was silent for several moments and Luke was certain she was trying to find a way to explain herself to him. He suspected she did not even fully understand her motives.

"You were just another mission. Then you were my failure – my only failure. Then I found myself developing… feelings… I had never… I have no experience with such feelings."

The words were halting and emotional, but Luke felt the meaning behind the words. It was not anything he had not felt himself.

"You were afraid of your feelings?"

She nodded her head, still trying to cope with what she was trying to say. "When you kissed me, the feelings were new and I didn't understand. As we continued… as I came to know you better I became more accustomed to what I felt. I knew I couldn't… hand you over to my master as I was commanded. I was ready to betray the Emperor for you."

This final revelation was the last piece of the puzzle, the last thing he needed to know to understand her motives. He had already confessed his love for her and he suspected she returned it. All may not be lost yet.

Before he could respond, the door slid open, revealing the tall and forbidding figure of the dark lord. He stopped and surveyed the room, and Luke was certain his keen eyes had not missed a thing. The emotion in the room was palpable, almost as visible as Arica's tears staining the front of her battle fatigues.

"We will arrive on the Death Star momentarily. Your final journey to meet your new master is almost complete, my son."

All at once Luke realized they were gliding through space; he had not noticed when they had left the moon, so focused on his discussion with Arica he had been. Although he would not have provoked his father further, Luke could not stay quiet about the expectation in his voice.

"I will tell you again, father. I will not turn. Your master will not make of me what he has wrought with you."

Vader was impassive. "It is your destiny, my son. You were meant to rule the galaxy with my master and I, and eventually take our place when we are gone. Do not fight against this."

Luke regarded his father, saddened by his inability to reach through to the man he once was – the man he knew still existed somewhere within that suit.

"You know my sentiments, father."

"If you will not turn, I will be forced to destroy you."

"You will try." Luke's voice was soft, but he could hear the steel in his own voice and the conviction obviously took his father by surprise. "I am no longer the boy whose hand you took on Bespin, father. I have no wish to fight you, but I cannot allow this to continue. If you will not return to Anakin Skywalker, the man I know still lurks somewhere within you, then _I_ will be forced to destroy you and your master."

Luke could almost see the feral grin light up behind his father's mask; the glee almost rolled off of him in waves.

"You would do well to remember your situation, my son. You have learned much, but do not underestimate the power of the dark side or it will be your undoing. Think of what awaits you if you accept my offer – we could rule the galaxy together as father and son, end this conflict which is so destructive. You would have anything you want, including the woman of your dreams."

This not so subtle reference to Arica caused him to glance at her surreptitiously. Her expression was rapidly changing from stunned at what she was hearing from the dark lord to displeasure at his insinuations.

_Stay calm, Arica, _he sent. He was rewarded when she jumped and peered at him with no small amount of astonishment.

But Luke had no time to consider this for the moment. "I would gladly join you to defeat that evil manipulator you call a master, but not if it means becoming like you."

Vader's Force sense darkened and he took a step forward, his anger tangible. "Luke—"

"Father, I will do what I must. There is no point in continuing conversation."

Although Vader's fury was evident, he appeared to force it down. "We will arrive momentarily. I hope, for your sake, you are more reasonable when you meet my master."

With a swirl of his cape, Vader stalked out of the room, taking his rage with him. Luke was tempted to pause and consider his father's words, but he knew time was running out and it was imperative to finish his conversation with Arica.

"The Emperor wants to turn you?" Her question was fearful and tentative.

"Yes, Arica. I've know what his motives were since Bespin."

"Then why did he send me to kill you? Was it some kind of test, like Vader says?"

"I can't answer that question. Perhaps it was, or perhaps the Emperor decided I was too dangerous. Maybe he doubted my father's loyalty."

"With good reason, it would seem."

She paused and glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. "I'm not certain I enjoy being considered no more than a nerf sow."

Luke responded with a smile. "I think you need to give him a little more credit. He obviously senses the attraction between us. Since he means to have me produce an heir to this… _empire_," the word was spat with some distaste, "encouraging us to… give in to our… physical desires allows him to realize his goal."

Her eyes darkening, Arica gazed back at him sullenly. "I suppose I shouldn't be surprised – I've never been given an opportunity to choose _anything_ for myself, why should this be any different?"

Luke crossed to her bench and sat next to her, taking her hand in his own, his movements awkward due to his still bound hands. Her hand was small and calloused in places, no doubt a result of her extensive training, yet feminine and delicate in his. "Arica, I can promise you that you will not be forced into anything. I have no intention of being lured into my father's, or the Emperor's machinations."

She gazed up at him, her heart in her eyes as she accepted his words gratefully with the barest of nods.

"The far more pressing question, is what do we do now?"

Arica seemed taken aback with his question. "What can we do? You yourself said you were trussed up like a side of nerf steaks. It's a little too late to be having this conversation now, isn't it?"

"It's never too late, Arica."

She appeared to consider the conviction in his voice, but on top of all that he felt her fear; whether it was fear of what he was suggesting, he was not certain. She did seem to take comfort in his touch, his thumb continued to gently caress the back of her hand.

"Master Yoda said you have a choice. I believe your choice is before you now. Will you choose to continue to play the obedient servant to your master, or will you break free from him and choose the light?"

She shook her head, her features registering the dismay he felt through her Force sense and her hand clutched his convulsively. "Betraying my master from a distance is one thing, but betraying him to his face… You don't know him… I could never…"

"Arica. You must break free of him. _He_ is the reason for all the strife in the galaxy, the perpetrator of countless atrocities. You can't continue to serve him!"

She gazed dully at him, shaking her head slightly in denial. "I can't. I'm afraid."

"You think I'm not? Arica, I'm going before the two most evil and powerful men in the galaxy by myself. I can't do this on my own. Your help could tip the balance in our favor. Please don't leave me to do this alone."

Luke felt the jolt as the shuttle touched down on the deck of the Death Star as he waited for her answer. Her eyes were shining with tears and she gazed off at something only she could see. For a moment, he almost thought she would agree with him.

"I'm sorry," she said in a small voice, withdrawing her hand from his. "I'm not trained; I can't go against my master like this."

The door slid open and two stormtroopers entered the room, motioning him to follow. Luke rose to his feet and acknowledged their instruction, all the while feeling his heart break in his chest. Still, he gathered his thoughts and turned his attention on the young woman seated before him.

"Be well, Arica. Please remember, I have faith in you. I know you will choose to do the right thing."

He bowed his head and walked from the room.

"Luke!" Arica's voice pierced the gloom of his thoughts and he turned, taking in the sight of her. She had risen to her feet and was gazing at him. The look in her eyes nearly caused his heart to stop beating in his chest, as all the things he sensed she had not been able to say shone in their luminous depths.

"I just wanted you to know…" she continued, timidly, "my name isn't Arica. My name… is Mara… Jade."

He sensed how difficult it had been for her to entrust him with the knowledge of her true self and smiled at her, hoping he had managed to reach her, knowing it was likely too late. "Thank you, Mara."

_I love you._

His words spoken into the silence of her mind hit her and she stood trembling with emotion.

"May the Force be with you," she whispered as he turned away and was marched off to meet his destiny.


	15. Chapter 14

**A/N:** Thanks once again to all the reviewers of this story. We are quickly approaching a close to the action and I wanted to let everyone know how much I appreciate the comments and support throughout this process. Also, a special thanks to Deja Vu for her kindness in assisting in the beta reading of this chapter and making it all that much better!

**Chapter 14**

Mara Jade watched as the form of Luke Skywalker retreated down the ramp of the shuttle and away from her, deathly afraid it was the last she would ever see of him. She could not imagine him ever accepting the Emperor's plan and joining him willingly, which would mean nothing more than his death when her master determined the young Jedi was of no more use to him.

She sat down heavily on the bench; the tears flowed freely down her cheeks, her chest heaving with the weight of her sobs. The wretchedness she felt over what was happening to him was nothing compared with the ache she already felt at her separation from him and the desolation engendered at the thought of never seeing him again.

_How did it come to this? Just when I felt I could love him…_

Mara's breath caught in her throat and she felt her heart constrict at the thought. Was that what this feeling, this change in her heart and in her perceptions, was? Mara had no experience with emotions of this type – no true understanding of what it meant to love and be loved in return. All she had ever felt for the Emperor was a healthy dose of fear for what he could do to her – what he had done to her in the past. There was no one else to whom she had been even remotely close, so never before had feelings such as these invaded her solitary and wary existence.

But the more the feeling welled up from deep down in her heart, the more she became aware of it, the more she understood it, the more she began to accept it. Luke had told her he loved her, and in her heart and mind, she knew she returned his love without reservation.

Small consolation, now that it was too late.

_Why didn't he listen? Why didn't I tell him before? We could have completed the mission, ensured the Emperor's reign of terror ended from a distance…_

But even as she thought it, she knew she was mistaken. He had been set on this path for a while, likely from the time they had spent on Dagobah – or perhaps even before. There had been no talking him out of his course of action, and as Mara thought about it more, she knew his actions were not without reason; Luke Skywalker knew, as she should have, that in order to guarantee the Emperor would not escape the destruction they hoped would be wrought upon the Death Star, he would have to take an active hand. He had to either ensure the Emperor was on the station when it was destroyed, and thus be destroyed himself, or kill the puppet master before it was destroyed and escape himself.

Of course, his stupid, short-sighted and apparently baseless faith in his father to turn against his master and become the man he had once been was the sign of an idealist who still had much to learn. It was his naiveté, his absolute faith in others and inherent belief in the ability of good to prevail which attracted Mara to him. He was so different from herself; his optimism so opposite her cynicism, allowed her to hope his opinions and belief in others would balance her own lack of faith.

And now it was too late.

_Why does it have to be this way? Why can't I throw off_ _the chains that monster binds me with?_

She could not put her finger on it, but she knew it was not the simple fear of what would be done to her. Mara knew herself to be courageous, sometimes to the point of being foolhardy – there had been times in her mission she knew she had acted in a reckless and impulsive manner, throwing herself in the way of harm in order to complete a mission. A part of her whispered that she had known even then that death was preferable to continuing to serve that monster. No, it was not simple fear which stayed her hand, but if not, then what was it? Why could she not show the same manner of courage and defy her master, stand up for what she now knew to be right?

Mara was not certain, but she knew one thing – the thought of defying her master to his face caused her to freeze, her limbs to seize up and become wooden – caused her to lose her will to act. There was nothing she could do but wait and allow the events to unfold in whatever manner they would.

_Hand!_

Her master's sharp statement rang through Mara's consciousness, nearly causing her to sway in shock.

_You will join us in the throne room immediately!_

Although Mara would have liked nothing more than to ignore the command, she found she could do nothing more than to accept.

_Yes, my master,_ was her meek reply.

It was apparent that she would be forced to the ultimate indignity of watching the man she loved put to death before her very own eyes. Mara had never felt so lost.

* * *

The walls of the Death Star were stark and severe, just as Luke had remembered from his time aboard the original station. It was a station of destruction, after all – Luke hardly expected the Emperor to decorate it in Alderaanian Fire Lilies and Dantooine landscapes.

The picture of the wicked old man, surrounded by soothing paintings and floral arrangements brought a grim smile to Luke's face, testament of the ability to see humor in even the worst situations. Maybe Han was rubbing off on him a little too much.

"This is a cheery sort of place, isn't it?" Luke asked, his voice conversational, if a little mocking.

Vader turned his head and regarded Luke. "Son, the Emperor will not give you much leeway in your defiance of his demands, nor will he appreciate your attempts at levity."

"Shocking," Luke murmured, just loud enough for his father to hear.

The mask prevented his father's reaction from being betrayed, but his continued stare served to indicate his displeasure. "I suggest you do not waste this opportunity, my son – you will not be given a second."

Luke glanced up at his father's mask, all flippancy forgotten as his mouth once more set in a grim line. He could sense his father's conflict even now, but the knowledge of how to convince him to return to the man he had once been was as elusive and unfathomable as ever. Perhaps there was no way to reach him and this had all been nothing more than a young man's wish to actually have a father. Perhaps it did not matter any longer.

But Luke refused to believe it. There was a way – he just had not found it yet.

"Discussion is pointless, father – you know my feelings on this matter, and I will not be swayed. I will do as I was meant to do, as I was born to do. I recommend you discover your loyalties and act accordingly."

Feeling the spike of anger in his father's sense, more from his insinuation that Vader did not know his own mind and loyalties rather than from his restated recalcitrance, Luke merely stared at him impassively, willing his father to see he was not bluffing. The older man kept his attention on Luke for the barest of moments longer before turning back with a swirl of his cape.

Free from the unwanted attention of his sire, Luke began to prepare himself mentally for the upcoming confrontation, recalling words, bits of advice from both Ben and Yoda, burying his thoughts deep down in the deepest recesses of his mind. There were so many things he needed to keep to himself and away from his enemies: the imminent attack of the rebel fleet, his new-found familial relationship with Leia, his feelings for Mara…

Luke blanched at the thought of the flame-haired woman, forcing the memory of their last discussion and the feelings he had revealed to her down deep within his psyche and safe behind his shields. It would not do to keep her in his mind during the coming confrontation. He sensed her distress and her intense desire to break away from the Emperor, but for whatever reason she was unable to do so, and Luke knew if his feelings were made known, they would be used against him.

Of course, his father obviously suspected his feelings for Mara, if his not-so-subtle comment about her were to be taken as any indication, but Luke suspected his father would keep that from the Emperor at all costs. His offer to join together and betray the Emperor on Bespin was evidence of his desire to throw off the Emperor's chains, but Luke was not so blind as to miss the obvious consequence of having his father's chains to the Emperor replaced by the same binds, tying him to his father. Still, Luke was certain Vader's plans for himself and Mara were very much his own, and he was convinced Vader would not easily betray that confidence to his master. No, he was certain knowledge of how their relationship had progressed would not reach the Emperor through Vader – it was up to Luke to keep his emotions in check and his thoughts well hidden.

As they reached the end of the corridor, a set of large doors slid open and the area widened into a vast room with vaulted ceilings. Before them lay a wide set of stairs leading up to a raised dais in front of a massive window which looked out over the vastness of space. In the distance, Luke could see the moon of Endor glittering like an Emerald below, its brilliant green forests and glowing blue seas a stark contrast to the sparse and severe grays and blacks of the room. To either side of the door stood a trooper, clad from head to toe in blood-red robes, each one holding a force pike at attention.

Vader entered the room and motioned his son to follow, up the wide staircase to the top of the dais, where, in the very center was situated a large, black throne-like chair. As they arrived at the top of the stairs, the throne began to swing around, bringing the occupant face to face with the Jedi.

"Welcome, young Skywalker, I have been waiting for you."

For years, the Emperor had allowed no holos of him, and live footage on the holonet had been similarly forbidden. His first impression of the ruler of the largest political system in the galaxy was one of utter repulsion. The malice, hatred and single-minded lust for power were evident on his face and in his Force presence, and Luke, having experienced nothing worse than his father's presence – which although black, was not overwhelmingly so – was nauseated at the evil and caprice so blatantly on display to his senses.

The man himself was old and wizened, his physical presence bent over and shrunken with his now great age. His face was pallid and hideously deformed – folds of skin stood out along his cheeks and forehead, giving him the impression of madness or perhaps a fierce Firaxan shark waiting in the shadows for its next prey. He was dressed in a robe of the deepest black, the hood pulled up over his head, and the only thing other than his face which was visible was his hands sticking out of the sleeves, gnarled and distorted as they clutched the arms of his throne.

But all of this was nothing compared to his eyes, which burned with a hideous orange light, shining with a malevolent intelligence and barely suppressed glee. If any doubts remained as to the author of the strife and destruction now rampant in the ever oppressed galaxy, the mere sight of this misshapen caricature of a man would have dispelled them, without even considering what his presence did to Luke's Force sense.

Instinctively, Luke knew the Emperor was well aware of the effect his appearance had on those about him and used it to his advantage. Knowing he could be defeated before he even started simply by giving into the perceived inevitability of the Emperor's might and superiority the Emperor's aura and appearance created, Luke steeled himself, determined to see the reign of the madman ended.

For a long moment nothing was said. Luke gazed at the Emperor, who sized him up appraisingly in response, determined nothing would show of his nervousness or anxiety, determined to show no weakness before the predator. In the back of his mind, thousands of scenarios were running endlessly, plans within plans, thoughts and feelings, all with the goal of removing the Emperor from the power he so brutally seized, so hungrily craved.

"Good… good," the Emperor finally broke the silence with a disturbing cackle. "You have mastered your fear. I would not have a coward serving me."

Luke said nothing in response, sensing the words would be as lost on the Emperor as they had been on his father. He allowed his conviction and sense of right to shine through, defying his captor without saying a word.

The Emperor seemed to greet his defiance with an almost unholy glee. He gestured in a nonchalant manner with one hand and the manacles which bound Luke's wrists fell away to clatter on the floor.

"You no longer need those," he said, his voice offhand and disinterested.

Luke was confused. Why had the Emperor released his hands? Not that he could not have done so on his own, but it would have taken him a moment's time, an instant which may have proved deadly in any sort of confrontation. What was his game? For the first time, Luke considered what method the Emperor might employ to turn him and wondered in what manner he had effected his father's own fall. He had never been given the details, but he knew that at one time Vader had been an exemplary Jedi and a hero of the Clone Wars. Would the Emperor try to turn him in the same way, or did he have some other nefarious scheme in mind? To this point, Luke had always assumed he would be goaded into anger or tortured into turning. Of course, the fact that his feelings for Mara could be used against him was certainly a possibility…

"We will be joined shortly by a… guest. Perhaps we should have a little talk in the meantime – become acquainted."

Startled, Luke searched the Emperor's face, uncomfortably realizing that unless one of his companions had been captured, the 'guest' was undoubtedly Mara.

"Tell me, young Skywalker, to whom did you turn for training?"

Luke remained silent, determined to reveal nothing. It was likely, due to Mara's ability to make contact with him, that he already knew with whom Luke had trained and knew this was merely an attempt to discomfit him and cause him to doubt. He would give the Emperor no such satisfaction.

"Come now," the Emperor continued, his tone reasonable and straining toward the pleasant, innocuous conversation between friends. "It makes little difference whether I know, considering your present circumstances. I know Obi-Wan gave you your initial training – indeed his skill with training apprentices is well known to me." The significant glance he directed in Vader's direction was not lost on Luke. "But you have come far since Obi-Wan's death on the first Death Star, have you not? Surely you could not have achieved such progress on your own. Who was it?"

Again Luke stayed silent, his shields strained to the maximum – unwavering in his resolve to give nothing to the Emperor he did not take. The old man studied him for several moments, his lips curled in a most distasteful and disturbing smirk.

"There was one we never accounted for – he fled after being roundly defeated in a confrontation with me… his name was Yoda."

While the revelation of Yoda's involvement was of no concern to Luke, the confirmation that Mara had indeed informed her master was unsettling – until he realized it could have been accomplished at any point in time after their arrival on Dagobah.

"Ah, Yoda, it was. I suppose it is of no concern that Yoda survived after fleeing from our confrontation like the whipped kath hound he was. After all, he is dead now, is he not?"

After a short pause and an unpleasant laugh, he continued. "This will be your first lesson, young Skywalker; there is nothing you can hide from me. I see you; I see your deepest desires and the furthest reaches of your soul. You would do well to remember this in our future dealings."

"Come now, Your _Majesty_," Luke finally responded, "I know of your connection to Mara Jade. It's not due to any great insight on your part that you actually know of my training with Master Yoda and his death. Give me some credit."

The Emperor cackled with glee. "Ah, so you know of her duplicity, do you now? I suppose it must have been quite the blow to know you are all alone the galaxy."

"I have the Force."

"And precious good it will do you! I'm certain your _training_ has proceeded with great effect."

The sarcasm evident in his tone filled Luke with a sudden spike of anger which he mercilessly suppressed. But even as he did so, Luke felt his anger provoke something in the Emperor's countenance and he saw something he had not suspected in the Emperor – fear. He was afraid of Luke's ability, afraid it might be turned against him, afraid of the possibility of his being overthrown and sent to his fate. He also glimpsed another bit of the Emperor, the part that had always been afraid of Luke's father and the power he possessed. He knew with a certainty the Emperor had been eminently satisfied when his father had ended up in the suit he had been trapped in for the past two decades, as it had allowed him to control Vader, whereas he would have had difficulty doing so if he had been whole. The Emperor, he sensed, was accomplished and masterful in his use of the Force, but in terms of raw strength, he and his father stood above the master.

The knowledge was a boon to his confidence, but still the fact remained that if it came down to mere strength, he was still outnumbered and outclassed in experience and training.

"Yes, I sense you are powerful and filled with _righteous_ anger. I will look forward to completing your training and the time you call me Master."

"You're gravely mistaken. I think you will find me far more difficult to convert than you did my father. I will not be moved."

"No, young Skywalker, it is you who are mistaken… about a great many things."

Vader moved from Luke's side and approached the throne, handing his lightsaber to the Emperor's outstretched hand. "His lightsaber, my Master."

"Ah, yes, the weapon of a Jedi – much like your father's"

The Emperor made a great show of inspecting the weapon, turning it over in his hands while gazing up at his captive. "A most impressive weapon. I look forward to the time it is used in my service."

This time, Luke did not even bother to refute the statement – the war of words was not one he was looking to win. The other battle, he could not afford to lose.

The distinct sound of a door opening caught Luke's attention, and although he did not glance behind him, the mere presence of the woman in the room was enough confirmation, if the Emperor's sudden gleeful leer in her direction had not.

"Ah, Mara Jade, so good of you to join us. Please step forward."

Listening to her light footfalls as she made her way to the dais, Luke considered what she had told him of the Emperor's never addressing her by her name. His casual welcoming of her so familiarly seemed calculated by the Emperor to isolate him and show solidarity between the three with whom he shared the room. He could only hope the Emperor had not discovered Mara's true feelings.

Luke glanced at her fleetingly, taking in the calm and composed front she presented to her master, a front he sensed, due to the close ties they had formed during their acquaintance, she was only maintaining with difficulty. He wanted to comfort and encourage her, but he knew any movement by himself might betray his feelings. He forced himself to remain impassive.

"I see you are familiar with my Hand. Efficient, is she not? Kept you guessing right until the end, it appears. Perhaps you are not as perceptive as I had originally thought."

"Well done, my Hand," the Emperor continued, turning his attention back to Mara. "How well did you come to know her, young Skywalker? Has she told you what a great help to me she has been? Has she told you some of her… exploits… her conquests in the service of the Empire? She has indeed been most helpful, her talents most useful and so accomplished. She will do _anything_, you know, in order to complete her orders. Why, she has fooled more suspicious men than you, Skywalker – her wiles and cunning are indeed a boon to me."

Luke stiffened at the blatant innuendo in his words, wondering if he thought she had actually carried through with his command to sleep with him and was attempting to use that against him. If he thought that, he was sadly mistaken.

"I am well aware of Mara's talents and abilities," Skywalker responded.

"Are you now? That is good to hear, young Skywalker, as I am very pleased with the result of her most recent mission. After all, you _are_ here, are you not?"

"To what purpose are you bringing this up? I have told you I know all about her role in all of this. Know this – I would have ended up here anyway, with or without Mara's help. It's always been my destiny to stop your reign of terror."

The smile on the Emperor's face seemed to grow in intensity and unpleasantness. "Yet another mistakenly held belief, my young _friend_. It appears you have much to learn about destiny."

"Or perhaps you do," was Skywalker's riposte. "I can see your overconfidence is your greatest weakness."

"And your sad devotion to the ancient and heretical teachings of a defunct order is your own. Or maybe you have many weaknesses."

His eyes flicked to Mara and one of his eyebrows rose in a knowing fashion.

"Perhaps I should consider giving young Mara a reward based on her success in a most difficult and important mission."

The Emperor stopped and seemed to consider his proposal, all the while watching Luke from the corner of his eye. Luke, seeing this, was content to merely return the Emperor's stare, allowing all the distaste he felt for this reprehensible being to show itself in his manner.

Of course, this did not faze the Emperor one bit. "Yes, I think I shall. Hand, come here."

Luke felt – rather than saw – Mara's hesitation, sensing also a sudden spike of fear fro mher. Nevertheless, she stepped forward and approached the Emperor, who stood and regarded her with delight.

"Well, young Mara, what kind of reward do you think you deserve for this… outcome?"

Mara shook her head. "No reward is necessary, my Master. I serve—"

"Yes, yes, you serve me and require no reward. But I think this special occasion deserves some special merit, don't you? What do you think, Lord Vader?"

"Young Jade _was_ instrumental in bringing my son to us, my Master."

"Yes, she was," the Emperor responded, his tone thoughtful and reflective.

Suddenly, his face lit up with an unpleasant grin and he leered at her. "This shall be your reward – the reward reserved for all traitors."

His hand shot out with lightning quick speed and connected with her cheek with a resounding smack. She tumbled to the floor, holding her hand to her face, her gaze glaring back at her master in barely disguised anger and contempt.

The Emperor turned back to Luke, who had taken an involuntary step forward, his fists clenched in rage. "This is what happens to all who betray me, young Skywalker. I know of her duplicity to me, her attempt to circumvent my orders and the manner in which she believed herself to be in love with you."

His lips curled in distaste. "_Love!_" he spat. "A singularly weak and disgusting emotion! Yes, I know of her pathetic feelings for you and that you return them. You thought you had all the answers, but now you must see the futility of everything those _Jedi_ taught you; they were weak and if you persist in these false delusions they fed to you, you will remain weak. You will _die_ weak!"

Luke fought back a fresh wave of revulsion for the Emperor, as well as a wave of fear as his most intimate feelings were now laid bare before his enemy's gaze. He had referred directly to the conversation they had had on the shuttle on the way to the Death Star. Did the Emperor have so close a connection to Mara's mind that she could not hide anything from him, or was there some other explanation for his knowledge of what they had discussed?

It did not matter, Luke decided. His hand was being forced and he knew the confrontation was looming. He had nothing left but to face it with courage and conviction in the rightness of his cause.

"Leave her alone – she has nothing to do with this."

"Oh, but she has everything to do with it," the Emperor responded. "She was involved from the moment you tried to contaminate her with the infection of your dogmatic Jedi teachings."

He glanced back at Mara, who was still lying on the floor, her face a mass of bitterness, revulsion and fear. The Emperor took in her countenance and seemed to be pleased with the way she regarded him.

"Get up, Hand," he ordered, waving her to her feet. "There will be time for you to grovel before me later."

Slowly and stiffly, Mara regained her feet, the livid imprint of the Emperor's hand now staining her cheek. She stood straight and defiant before her master, the glint of distaste blooming in her brilliant eyes.

"Yes, I shall have to attend young Mara's re-education once I am done with you. I only hope I will not have to turn her into a walking automaton due to your interference, as her usefulness to me at that point will decrease immensely. It may even be I will have no use for her any longer."

Luke could not stand it any longer. "You evil bastard—"

"Yes, good…" the Emperor interrupted, a look of satisfaction appearing on his disgusting features. "I can feel the anger swelling in you. Your feelings for her, your compassion for your father and your friends – these will be your undoing."

Knowing this was exactly what the Emperor wanted, Luke forced his anger down, his visage turning stoic as he stood watching the scene. At his side, he could feel his father tensed as if ready for action. He would obviously move to defend his master if Luke should move against him.

"I will never serve you."

"It is inevitable. Every passing moment, you make yourself more my servant."

The Emperor turned back to regard Mara yet again, his face infused with a smug and unpleasant smile. "Your continued resistance is admirable, young Skywalker. But it will be all for naught, as I have foreseen. Your antics with my Hand here are most diverting. You thought you could turn her from me, that you could take my Hand away from me and use her against me. I have taken steps to ensure her loyalty – believe me, you never had any chance to turn her."

Shocked at the Emperor's assertions, Luke was nevertheless given no time to think further on the audacious statement.

"And as for your father, you must now know he can never be turned from the dark side. So it will be with you."

"You think you know everything," Luke rasped, his throat feeling like the sands of Tatooine. "There is so much happening of which you have no knowledge. Know this, Your _Majesty_, your time in this galaxy is coming to a close and the judgment awaits you."

"Perhaps you refer to the attack of your Rebel fleet?" The Emperor smiled. "Oh, yes, young Skywalker, I know all about it, know all about your friends on the moon. Who do you think allowed the Alliance to know of the location of the Death Star?"

Luke laughed. "So, I am to believe you knew about this all along – rather than guessing it from my presence in the system or from your informant?" Luke gestured in Mara's direction. "I am not so easily fooled. You could not have planned for all this."

The Emperor waved dismissively. "I care not what you believe. Step over to the window, young Skywalker, and witness for yourself."

Almost against his will, Luke stepped around the Emperor's throne, stopping to press his palm against Mara's cheek in a gesture of concern and affection. She gazed up at him, unshed tears and the heartfelt glimmering of an apology evident in the depths of her eyes. Knowing the Emperor could very well lash out at her for his concern, Luke only allowed himself a moment, the barest of an understanding to flash between them, as he stopped to comfort her. It may have been a mistake to show such emotion, but Luke rationalized the secret was already exposed – it was more important to show her of his care for her than to keep up a pretense which was now less than meaningless.

In the vastness of space outside the window, the moon and the giant it orbited hung suspended in the distance. In the foreground, Luke could see the tiny figures of the Imperial fleet, their numbers far greater than they had been led to believe. Smaller, angry gnats appeared to be swarming around the hulking monsters, and he saw the bulk of lesser ships which suffered from smaller numbers and less organization. All at once, Luke noticed the flashes of red and green – it appeared the battle had been joined.

"From here, young Skywalker, you shall witness the final destruction of your pitiful Rebellion."

"You forget the shield generator on the moon, which will soon be destroyed," Luke shot back. "They should be commencing their attack on the Death Star any moment now. Soon you will be dead, Your Majesty."

The Emperor's crowing laughter once again filled the room. "Ah yes, your freedom fighters on the moon. They will never succeed – a legion of my best troops awaits them."

"Tell me, Your Majesty, did it take you years to develop your insane overconfidence, or did it come naturally?"

"Come now, Skywalker, such sarcasm is beneath you. It is time you accept your destiny and understand the might and supremacy of the dark side. The rebellion will not survive the day. Your friends on the moon will fail, and your fleet will be crushed by my fleet's superior firepower and numbers. There is nothing you can do but accept your fate."

Luke whirled angrily at the despot. "I will _never_ lose faith!"

An eyebrow raised and the Emperor's smile became even more unpleasant, if that was even possible. "No? Then I shall deal the final blow to your misguided confidence. Now witness the full power of the fully armed and operational space station."

In horror, Luke realized what he was referring to and watched as the tyrant depressed a button on the arm of his throne.

"Commander, you may fire when ready!"

Luke could take it no more. "What is this all about?"

"Don't worry, young Skywalker, you will have the best possible seat to witness the ultimate destruction of the Rebel Alliance. Watch, my misguided young _friend_… watch and learn."

Gazing desperately at the despot, Luke caught sight of his lightsaber sitting on the arm of Palpatine's throne, understanding instinctively what the Emperor was waiting for. He had no doubt now that if he were to seize the weapon and aim it at the heart of the insane ruler, his father would intervene. Could he do so and still resist the sibilant call of the dark side in the presence of its chief servant? It was quickly coming to the point where he would have little choice in the matter.

Noticing the Emperor regarding him with a knowing look in his repulsive face, Luke turned away to watch out the window, biding his time until the last possible moment. The time to act would come.

Suddenly, in confirmation of his worst fears, Luke witnessed the sight he most wished he would never have to see. From eight points in the Death Star's conical dish, the concentrated energy from its massive lasers emanated, the energy converging to a point several kilometers from the station before screaming away to strike one of the ships in the distance. Although Luke could not see what had been hit, the immense explosion of the ship was easily discernable, its light briefly illuminating all in its close proximity until the gases from the ship burned themselves out.

Luke remained at the window momentarily, knowing the time of the confrontation had finally arrived. With the Death Star operational, he now had no choice but to attempt to destroy the Emperor and his servant himself. The bitterness of the truth washed over him in waves, but he steeled himself and turned back toward the despot grinning at him from his throne.

"Join us or die."

His eyes flickered to Mara, and he witnessed all the pain and sorrow in the luminous depths of her eyes.

_Be well, Mara; I love you, _he sent to her, not caring whether Palpatine could hear.

"I grow tired of this, young_ Jedi_. Make your choice."

"I choose neither," Luke forced out between clenched teeth.

In an instant, his lightsaber leapt off the arm of the throne and into his waiting hand, and ignited in an instant, his downward stroke was begun before the lightsaber was fully functional, cleaving down at the Emperor's unprotected head – only to be intersected by the blood red blade of his father.

Anticipating this, Luke brought his hand up and hit his father with a massive blast from the Force, catching his sire unawares and sending him sprawling across the floor to tumble down the stairs. Then he swung his lightsaber in a blinding arc, back at his original target.

And cleaved through the back of the Emperor's throne. The Emperor, sensing his intent, had moved with almost inhuman speed, ducking down below the heavy stroke, to land on the dais, some meters away. Gripping his lightsaber tightly, Luke swiftly sidestepped the sparking throne, advancing on the apparently unprotected Emperor.

He was completely unprepared for the burst of blue energy which erupted from the Emperor's outstretched fingers, barely managing to catch the energy on his lightsaber and turn it aside. The Emperor kept up his assault, cackling insanely the entire time, as Luke grimaced and pressed forward, intending to end the confrontation once and for all.

A sudden warning through the Force caused him to break off his assault and he dove to one side, moving away from the swinging lightsaber of his father. Incensed at his failure to remove the threat of the Emperor, Luke attacked his father, swinging his lightsaber in large arcs, seeking to put his father out of the fight quickly. All the while, he could hear the Emperor laughing in the background. But for some reason, he chose not to intervene, seeming content with just watching the struggle between father and son.

The battle had been joined.

* * *

Mara watched as the man she loved battled his father, her cheeks stained with tears which even now flowed freely down her cheeks.

_No, not this. Anything but this._

She watched as the two combatants raged back and forth across the expanse of the throne room, watched as Luke pressed his father relentlessly. She could tell they were for the most part evenly matched, the dark lord's experience and obvious skill counter balanced by Luke's youth and ability, not to mention the limitations placed on Vader by the biomechanical suit he was forced to wear.

What she sensed from Luke was hopeful yet unsettling at the same time. She could tell he was for the most part controlled and yet, in the background she could sense the barely suppressed anger and a cold resolve, the likes of which she had never sensed from the usually good-humored and open young man.

_This_ is what she feared – the possibility her vision in the cave would come true and he would turn into another Palpatine. If he was successful in striking down the dark lord, would he be able to resist the temptation to continue down that path? She could bear anything, even death, if only he would be spared from that fate. It was unbearable.

A movement at her side startled her and she turned to see her master standing beside her, an intense look of concentration on his face.

"Yes, yes… he is powerful and aggressive. He'll make a proper replacement."

Mara was aware her master was musing to himself, and although she was curious at his choice of words, she was determined not to call attention to herself. She turned back and observed the course of the battle.

Unfortunately, her regard had not escaped her perceptive master. "You have done well, Hand, even if it was not your intention."

Hoping he would be silent, Mara continued to watch the battle.

"It is a great pity you allowed yourself to be affected by his Jedi dogma. Once Skywalker is my apprentice, you will learn to regret your lack of loyalty."

Later, Mara would not be able to say from where she had gotten her courage, but the knowledge she had gained during the mission and the new perspective she had gained not only from Luke's teachings, but more importantly from her knowledge of her love for him, told her she could not go on serving her master. She wanted to do more – wanted to rush into the battle and help him – but she found she could not. It was though some unseen force had gripped her in its jaws, held her in place, not to let go. Whatever it was, moving against her master was at present beyond her power; but that did not stop her tongue. And regardless of her prior misgivings and fears, she found a quiet strength and faith in the young Jedi. The Emperor was wrong.

"Luke will never turn."

The Emperor turned and regarded her, a feral gleam lighting up his eyes. "Your lack of vision is astounding, Hand. I would have thought your training would have given you more resistance to these weak and unworthy feelings."

"Perhaps I always knew you were a monster."

"A monster!" he said with a laugh, shaking his head. "A pity you never learned. The only thing of any substance in this universe is power, my weak and insipid servant. Of course, one such as you would never be able to grasp such. Your _lover_ is not so foolish – he is well on his way to understanding."

"Luke will _never_ turn," Mara repeated with fervor. "I know him."

The Emperor chuckled and shook his head. "You know nothing. He was lost the moment his lightsaber touched his hand. Once he has become my servant, I will make him personally responsible for your re-training. And if you cannot be reclaimed, then he will oversee your punishment and execution, and believe me – you will not be allowed to die quickly. Perhaps he will even satisfy his lusts on you before you are gone…"

Although Mara knew the image provoked by her master's words, coupled with the vision of Skywalker she had seen in the tree, should disturb her immensely, somehow, it did not. As she considered the picture he painted, she found that thoughts of Skywalker, the man she knew him to be, intruded and crowded out her master's words. She remembered the young man who had poured out his soul to her in his childhood home, the way he had dealt with his friends on Tatooine, the way he had kissed her. She thought of his kindness and competence, his easy manner of instructing her, his faith in the power of redemption for his father and the way he gazed at her and told her he loved her. This was the Luke she knew and all of the Emperor's machinations and certainties would be as nothing before Luke's integrity, sense of right and willpower.

She could not say how she knew, but somehow she did. She trusted him.

"We will see," she breathed, completely ignoring the being at her side.

Yes, she trusted him. It was enough.

* * *

The crash and hum of lightsabers rang throughout the Emperor's audience hall as Luke strove against his father. The situation had changed; before on Bespin, his early sense of accomplishment and confidence had been brutally ripped from him when Vader had fully exerted himself in the duel. This time, there were no pretenses – they fought, the two striving utterly against one another, nothing held back, nothing left to chance. And this time, Luke knew he was meeting his father stroke for stroke, skill for skill. This time, Luke knew he was his father's equal.

And yet, though his focus was on the duel, leaving little thought for other concerns, his connection with Mara had become of such strength that every little nuance and change in her emotions was broadcast to his psyche as clearly as though the emotions had been his own. He knew of her worry for him as the battle was joined, well aware of the source and the reasons behind her feelings, but the means to respond and allay her concerns were completely beyond his faculties, so intense was his concentration on his father.

It wasn't until he sensed Mara's trepidation and anger, followed by her feeling of intense faith and love, that his mind was able to be distracted away from his father, and it was at that instant he realized that he could sense Palpatine standing next to his beloved. His sense of the Emperor's malevolence was unabated, and his close proximity to Mara and the feelings he felt rolling off her caused him to fear, not irrationally, for her safety.

Knowing he was potentially putting himself at risk for counter-attack and further machinations on the part of his adversaries, Luke forced his father back with renewed ferocity and then executed a back flip several meters away and turned to regard Mara, with the Emperor standing close behind her.

_Don't worry about me Skywalker, protect yourself from your father._

Her words were confident and reassuring, but the malicious gleam in the Emperor's eyes did nothing to reassure him as to what Mara could shortly be facing.

A moment was all he had, as Vader was upon him again in an instant and he was forced to defend himself. The dark lord's strokes were heavy and urgent, and Luke knew his father was holding nothing back, although he was certain his father had no intention of killing him – at least not yet.

"Why do you continue to struggle, my son?" his father's voice penetrated the fog of the battle. "Your destiny is by my side. Why can you not accept it?"

Redoubling his efforts, Luke pressed his father back grimly, seeking to put him out of the fight, yet paradoxically not wanting to hurt him.

"I told you my conditions for joining you, father. I will not join you in evil; I will not become like you."

"You are already more like me than you want to believe."

"I'm having a difficult time believing we share anything more than a biological connection."

"Oh, there's so much more than that, my son," Vader replied.

Luke caught a vicious slash on his blade and kicked out, catching Vader in the chest and sending him stumbling several paces away. The mechanical voice of his respirator, however, did not slow, and within moments, Luke once again found himself engaged with his father.

"I see so much in you that I was myself. You can be so much more than you are now – you can be everything you want to be, if you will only let go."

"I will not follow you down your evil path, father."

"Why must you consider it evil, my son? It is not an evil path, merely a path of power. Think on it: we can touch the Force, manipulate it to our desire, see and understand so much more than those around us. We were born to rule, born to create order from chaos. Join with me, and we can right the wrongs in this galaxy and bring balance and order to the empire."

Shaking his head, Luke countered and drove his father back some steps. "You can put a bantha skin over a dewback, father, but that doesn't make it any less a dewback. No matter how you try to rationalize it or rephrase it, it doesn't change the truth. You may as well kill me now, father – I will never join you."

"Enough, Lord Vader!" the Emperor's words rang out over the clashing of lightsabers, and Vader disengaged from him, leaving a breathless Luke to wonder what the evil old man now had up his sleeve. He did not have long to wait.

"Perhaps you need a form of alternative persuasion."

Luke caught the almost imperceptible flickering of Palpatine's eyes and knew instantly that Mara had caught the inference in her master's words as well. He could feel her fear of what the Emperor would do, but at the same time felt her steel herself, accept what was to come. She was, after all, nothing more than a pawn in his grand plan to dominate the galaxy – she had to know this.

The Emperor's hands lifted, and the blue energy once again leapt from his fingertips to strike Mara in the back, sending her to the deck writhing in agony. It stopped as abruptly as it had begun, but the effects lingered, the electricity coursed around her until it finally flickered out, leaving a slightly acrid smell in the air. The sound of the Emperor's taunting laughter filled Luke's mind, causing anger to course through his veins, feeding the mounting fires of his fury and desire to make this reprehensible being pay for all he had done. As another blast of the Sith's damned energy burst forward to engulf Mara, he took a step forward, his anger and implacable will combining to form an almost physical desire to kill the cause of his beloved's distress.

_Luke, don't._

He stopped short, his eyes widening at the sign of Mara's pain-filled orbs boring into his, pleading with him to remember himself. Breaking his gaze away from the young woman, Luke peered at the Emperor, who was now regarding him with undisguised glee.

_Mara, I won't let him harm you,_ Luke finally responded, feeling the anger bleed out of him. The development did not go unnoticed by the Emperor.

"How chivalrous, young Jedi," he mocked, "you would allow your _beloved_ to be tortured in order to hold to your precious ideals. True love rears its ugly head yet again."

_Luke, you came here willing to die yourself, didn't you?_

He nodded his head, not trusting himself to do any more.

_Then let me go, let me die if need be. This is too important, Luke – I would rather die than have you become like them._

Such a simple statement, delivered with a strength and conviction he had rarely seen in the young woman. And yet, Luke knew he was seeing the real woman, the one she would have been if not for the Emperor's interference and manipulation. This Mara knew right from wrong, knew the importance of steadfastness and sacrifice; she was willing to do whatever it took to overthrow the rule of the one she had called master for as long as she could remember. Could he do any less?

Feeling his head clear and his anger abate, Luke was filled with an intense love for this woman, far greater than what he had felt previously. This woman was a complement to him in every way; if a future remained for them to experience, he knew it was one to be faced with her by his side.

She had saved him – saved him from a life of misery and bitterness, saved him from his father's fate… saved him from himself.

_Thank you, Mara, for helping me to remember myself._

Luke turned his attention back to the Emperor, who was regarding him with ever increasing dismay and anger. Mara had been his trump card, his means of pushing Luke over the edge. Now that the temptation had been overcome, by the loving guidance of his erstwhile servant no less, the Emperor was left with nothing with which to tempt him. _I will fight to the end, Mara. This must end and I will give my life to see it end if I must._

_Do what you were meant to do, my love._

"You have failed, Your Highness," Luke said aloud, forcing his attention from the woman who was attempting to gain her feet. "I am a Jedi, as my father was before me. I will never turn."

The Emperor was silent; his eyes seemed to penetrate through to Luke's very soul and his rage was evident in his eyes. A quick look around revealed his father. Vader gazed at him, his whole being filled with disbelief and doubt. Luke sardonically flipped his father a mocking salute before turning his attention back to the Emperor.

"I call you to account, Palpatine. You have raped and enslaved the entire galaxy, killing with impunity, glorying in your own evil. I will stop you; I must stop you. Everything depends on it."

"You stupid young fool! You think you can best me?"

"With the Force as my ally."

The Emperor was almost literally shaking with rage. "You know nothing of the Force! You have ensured your own death and that of this whore you claim to _love_. You will pay for your lack of vision!"

"I defy you, Palpatine, and I will end your reign of terror."

"Such bravado. I was killing Jedi before you were born, young whelp."

The Emperor's eyes darted once again to Mara, who was just gaining her feet, and a gleeful smile lit up his features. "You will die, young Skywalker, but not before you feel the hopelessness of having your lover destroyed before your very eyes."

Before the Emperor even had his hands raised, Luke was across the floor, moving to engage Palpatine and protect Mara from his wrath. The Emperor was stunned by the speed and ferocity of his attack and stumbled back, lightning spewing from his fingers in a desperate attempt to keep his attacker away. Luke caught the deadly energy on his blade, forcing it away from him, all the while advancing on him, intent on ending his life.

"Vader, kill this young upstart," the Emperor commanded as Luke advanced on him.

But Luke paid his words no attention and continued his assault, forcing the Emperor to retreat, all the while approaching his goal of ridding the galaxy of the man who had enslaved it. He could feel the mounting fear of the Emperor, the rage and dismay the tyrant felt over his crumbling plans and could only feel the satisfaction of being so near to his purpose.

Suddenly, Luke felt his father behind him, his rage a match for the Emperor's. Luke immediately disengaged from the Emperor's lightning and dove to the side, narrowly avoiding Vader's descending blade.

Luke stood to survey the situation, but was immediately engaged as his father, incensed at his son's intractability, pushed forward his attack with more ferocity than Luke had ever felt from him.

Grim with concentration, Luke matched Vader's strokes with an intense determination, all the while sensing Palpatine recover from his assault and move to join the battle.

It was as he had feared: they were now united against him. The end was near.

* * *

Painfully regaining her feet, Mara watched as Luke fought first the Emperor, then his father, before finally having to contend with both of his enemies at once.

His movements were graceful and beautiful in their intricacy – she could sense his desperation to put one of them out of the battle, but they were too crafty, always attacking him together, never leaving themselves open for him to deal with alone.

As his situation became more and more hopeless, Mara's thoughts spiraled down and she was enveloped in a fear she had never before felt. She ached to go to him, to help him or at least die with him, but she stood as if rooted to the floor. She willed her recalcitrant limbs to move, but they would not obey her. What was wrong with her?

A burst of energy slipped past Luke's guard and in an instant he was enveloped by the deadly blue lightning rippling out from the Emperor's hands. Mara knew the debilitating effects of the Emperor's lightning, knew it was now over. She watched as his lightsaber slipped from his grasp, fell to the floor to clatter at his side as he lay on the deck writhing in pain.

She felt a tear slip from her eye.

"Do you understand now, young Skywalker?" the Emperor rasped. "A pity such understanding will only come with your death."

In that instant, Mara felt a powerful feeling well up in her. It was a powerful love and devotion for the man who lay on the floor at his enemy's feet, a well of emotion so deep and profound Mara was almost frightened at its sudden intensity. But it was pure and unaffected by the life she had lived, the lies she had been told, the evil she had done in the service of her master. It was salvation.

The emotion was so powerful it overcame all rational thought, filling her entire being and obliterating everything in its path. Deep within her psyche, she could feel something within her stretch, a block which bent, frayed and ultimately snapped, the sensation so overpowering and _tangible_, she was almost surprised no one else in the room could hear it. And with the breaking deep within her, Mara felt her emotions rush into her, joining and mingling with her love of Skywalker. She felt whole for the first time in her life, and understanding flooded into her; understanding of her life, her servitude to the Emperor, what he had done to her to keep her in his thrall.

For the first time, she was free of it.

And with freedom came responsibility.

"Now, young Skywalker, you will die."

From the depths of her soul, a single thought, emotion… a single word escaped in all its intensity.

"NO!"


	16. Chapter 15

**A/N: **Well, here it is – finally. I appreciate everyone who has stuck with this story and commented on it. There will be one final addition in the form of a short epilogue, after which I will consider this completed - at this point I have no plans for a sequel, and precious little time to write one in any case.

For those who are interested, I do plan to continue my other WIP Redemption, but unfortunately, I don't expect the updates on that one to be frequent. It will eventually be finished, though.

JE

* * *

**Chapter 15**

Pain. The world had vanished and there was nothing left but pain and suffering, the acrid stench which surrounded him, penetrated the very being of one who had once stood tall – had once defied the evil. The electricity coursed around him, enveloped him, became part of his very existence, fused itself to his soul and bound him to the pain which had rapidly become and extension of his being

All that was left was pain.

Vaguely, he heard his own cries, his own desperate pleas for mercy – but somehow, he could not even recognize his own voice, could not even feel the vibrations of his throat as screams forced their way past his parched throat and rent the very air with an intense, almost living violence. But his screams went unnoticed by the great evil – the evil reveled in his pain, took strength in the suffering it was inflicting. The lesser evil remained unmoving, unchanging in his stoic defiance of his own feelings – feelings which he could even now sense welling up within him, fighting the darkness which had laid claim on his soul for more than two decades. Yet he did not yield. And the other…

Yes, the other one! She stood watching the spectacle; he could feel her heart aching, her desire to step in between him and his tormentor, and her fear at what was happening, what was to come. Yet something held her back – something deep within her psyche kept her from doing that which she knew was right – kept her from saving the one she loved.

But the connection was strong, its strength such that he could feel her every emotion, understand her torment and her silent struggle. He knew he was transmitting, in some small measure, his pain and torment, but he knew this would not be enough to allow her to break through whatever was holding her back. Whatever she was to do, whatever whoever she was to become, it was now out of his hands – it was time for her to decide for herself, become what she was meant to be.

Knowing the pain was not about to recede, he began to accept it, to draw it to him, allow it to gain purchase and, although only slightly, he began to rise above it. His perceptions shifted and he was able to ignore the pain to some small extent, to watch and follow her progress. As her feelings changed and her powerful feeling of love welled up and burst through everything in its path, a scream of primal rage issued from the depths of her throat. He felt tears slip from his eyes at the knowledge that she had finally been able to overcome whatever was holding her back. He rejoiced in her self knowledge and the ability she now possessed – the ability to determine her own future and control her own actions, no longer held back by the encumbering effects of the mental block. She was now free.

* * *

Mara leapt down the stairs and threw herself in between her love and the tyrant, her face a mask of determination and implacable will. The force of her scream had caused the Emperor to look up at her with incredulous surprise, his lightning to flicker out due to his surprise and consternation. He was staring at her as though he had never before seen her and she could feel his strength probing her shields, his concentration fully upon her.

A familiar feeling of fear caused her to hesitate for a moment in the face of her tormentor, yet Mara nevertheless gathered her courage and projected all of her defiance toward him and was rewarded by the immediate darkening of his expression. It was obvious to her that whatever he had done to ensure her obedience and inability to go against his will, its destruction had left him with no way of coercing her to his will.

"You would try your hand against mine, Hand?" he hissed at last.

"I would," was her only reply.

His sardonic leer in response chilled her. "A pity. There was still some hope for your redemption and re-entrance into my good graces."

"Slavery, you mean," Mara replied, desperate to keep him talking until Luke could recover. She could sense the young man struggling to regain control of his body and put himself back into the conflict. Given the strength of the Emperor's attack and the effects of his lightning, which she knew all too well, it would be several moments before he was sufficiently recovered to rejoin the fray. It was up to her to provide him that time.

The Emperor merely shrugged in response to her accusation. "There are those who have the good sense to realize that some forms of slavery are worth it. As my servant, you had everything you could ever want – a purpose, your own ships, more credits than you could ever hope to spend… How very typical for you to throw it away for so weak and transitory an emotion as love."

"And how very typical of you to disparage something of which you have no comprehension," Mara snarled. "Any sort of connection with you is not worth the price."

"I promise you, Mara Jade, your death will not be quick or easy." He jabbed a gnarled finger at her. "Your suffering will be immense."

Mara ignored his bravado and focused on the impending confrontation. She was well aware of the fact that she would not last nearly as long as Skywalker had in a confrontation with both Sith Lords necessitating the removal of one of them from the fight, even temporarily. She watched the Emperor as he chuckled at her.

"Are you prepared to watch your _lover_ die, Skywalker?" he taunted.

Then, in the blink of an eye, the Emperor struck. The blue energy burst out from his fingers, raging at his intended victim, but Mara was ready for his assault, catching it on her lightsaber as she had seen Luke do moments ago. But instead of deflecting it around her as Luke had done, she twisted her lightsaber around and directed the energy back to its source.

Her maneuver caught the Emperor completely by surprise – his eyes widened and the energy hit him directly in the chest, throwing him to the deck to writhe in agony as his chilling screams rang out through the room.

Snarling, Mara advanced on him, intent on putting the tyrant out of her life for good. "I have been your slave from my earliest memories. Now see your own death and despair – the Force will now exercise its judgment on your head."

_Mara! Look out!_

Luke's warning impacted against her consciousness and she dove to the side, narrowly missing the scything lightsaber which cleaved through the space in which she had just stood.

Rolling to her feet, Mara brought her lightsaber up to protect herself, barely catching another sweep from an enraged Vader as he unleashed upon her the fury of the dark side. Mara backed away from the Dark Lord, knowing she could never stand against him with his experience and knowledge, understanding that her only hope was to remain out of his reach until Luke had recovered from the Emperor's attack. Using his dependency on the armored suit which encased him, Mara moved away from him, engaged in a deadly game of keep away, forever remaining out of his reach. She knew, however, she could not keep it up for long.

_Get up,_ _Luke!

* * *

_

Managing to rise to his hands and knees, Luke watched as the woman he loved avoided the deadly blade of his father, while willing his recalcitrant limbs to obey his commands. The Emperor's dark energy had robbed him of all of his strength, leaving him an invalid during the very moment in which he most needed his strength.

A few meters away from him, the Emperor lay on the ground in the same difficulty, his breathing labored. Luke could only imagine the effect of the Force lightning on the despot's frail-looking and aged body. Although he was tempted to call his lightsaber and end the threat of this monster for good, Luke felt he was out of the fight for now. His first priority was to rescue Mara from the hands of his father. Besides, no matter what the Emperor had done or how deserved such a fate would be, he simply could not cut down a defenseless man in cold blood – he would not stoop to the Emperor's level. Some might say it was necessary to do anything to remove the Emperor from his seat of power and that Luke's priorities could be considered backward, but at that moment Luke did not care – his life had been orchestrated to bring him to this point, and he was not willing to sacrifice Mara or his own principles to achieve those ends. They would face the evil and defeat it together.

Tottering to his feet, Luke spied his lightsaber lying a few feet away, and using the Force, he called it to his hand. The familiar weight and feel of the blade calmed and reassured him immensely and he breathed a sigh of relief to have it once again in his possession.

He glanced around the room and witnessed Mara in full retreat from the figure of his father, her protective shield beginning to fray beneath his father's repeated attacks. His legs were still stiff and they protested the ill-use, but Luke steeled his resolve and began to move in the direction of the duel being waged.

_Mara, lead him to me._

She gave no indication she had heard him, but the focus of her defense abruptly shifted and she made a desperate feint and attacked before breaking it off and retreating in his direction.

By this time, Luke felt sufficiently recovered and moved to engage the Dark Lord, who shifted his attention to this new combatant smoothly, allowing Mara to escape to the side and catch her breath.

_Keep an eye on the Emperor and make sure he can't come after me until I can put my father out of the fight._

He felt rather than heard her agreement and fixed all his concentration on Vader.

"You have made a foolish choice, my son. Now you will pay the price."

"You really are his disciple, aren't you?" Luke taunted. "Is it some sort of requirement for all Sith to be trained in banal platitudes of the dark side's supremacy and the art of jeering at your opponents with subtlety?"

The anger rolled off his father in waves and Luke was forced to retreat from the onslaught. Grimly, he smiled at his father as he strove against him, knowing Vader was now exerting himself to the fullest of his abilities. And yet, it was not enough. By now, Luke had progressed to the point that he understood himself to be the equal of his father in ability and strength, if not experience, and his lack of his father's experience was balanced by the stiffness his father exhibited due to the confining and crippling effect of the suit he was forced to endure. Luke was filled with and intimate knowledge of the Force and great confidence in his own abilities, and he understood he could end this and bring his father to his knees. The knowledge did little to comfort the young Jedi, but he would not allow his compassion and love for his father to deter him from the necessity of what needed to be done.

"Are you prepared to feel the full power of the dark side?"

"I think I've already felt it. I am decidedly unimpressed."

By now, Vader was almost blind with his anger and disappointment, but Luke grimly held his ground and faced his father. The two combatants clashed with one another, the furious battle being waged flowing through the expanse of the Emperor's throne room, its intensity and ferocity transforming it into an almost living entity.

From across the room, Luke could feel the immensity of the dark side as it gained strength and rushed into the room. Forcing Vader back, he risked a quick glance behind him, witnessing a recovered Emperor, who was now attacking Mara with his deadly lightning. An instant was all he had as his father once again pressed forward his attack, forcing Luke to return his attention back to the immediate threat. He tried not to worry, as Mara had seemed to be holding her own, but his anxiety was immediately heightened by the thought of her being attacked by the Emperor, as he knew the tyrant was a ruthless and powerful combatant – he would need to finish Vader off quickly so as to go to her aid.

Switching once again to the offensive, Luke forced his father back with several powerful strokes, his disgust with his father rising to the front of his mind.

"How can you live with yourself, Father?" he demanded, as his attacks forced Vader back several steps. "You serve that… piece of _filth _and commit atrocities in his name. How dare you forsake your responsibilities for _this_… tainted existence!"

"You know nothing, you insolent boy!" Vader responded, asserting himself to drive his son back. "There is nothing but power – all your other illusions are merely those conjured up by a deluded mind. The power of the Sith is supreme. We are strong, ruthless and cunning – we were born to rule the galaxy and enforce our vision of order upon those who are less than we are."

Luke shook his head sadly. "This is not who you are, father… who you once were. You can throw off the yoke of the Emperor and the dark side! Become who you really are and who you were meant to be! It is not too late."

Disgust was evident in his father's sneering response. "Spoken like a true Jedi drone – your time with Yoda has left you weak and ultimate unsuitability for the honor of being a Sith. Look around you, son. The strong take what they want; the weak are forced to submit. That is the way of the galaxy – the way of life. Who are we to overthrow the natural order of the universe?"

Luke was about to respond when he was hit with a wave of agony and despair; it emanated up to him, penetrating him and causing him to stagger back a step. His father must have felt it too, as he ceased his attack and watched his son, his Force sense questing for the source of this sudden disturbance.

Luke knew instinctively that the source was not in this room – instead it had emanated up from the moon hovering below, an entity which reached out to him through the basest of instinct, its guiding hand inexperienced, yet powerful.

_Leia! She had been injured!_

And in that moment when her Force sense was crying out to him, Luke was unable to close his thoughts around her cry. He knew his shields had opened up and the final secret, the final chance should he fail, was now exposed to his father's understanding. The final puzzle of his family's past was now in his father's possession.

As her cry subsided, Luke allowed his Force sense to touch hers, immediately understanding the hurt she had received was not fatal – her Force sense continued to blaze as a beacon, and although she appeared to be in pain, he could feel her continued determination and resolve. Luke's eyes automatically found his father's mask, and although the helmet as ever denied even the view of his father's eyes Luke could sense the turmoil, which had been a part of his father's sense from the time they had confronted one another on Bespin, now flowed and seethed through Vader's consciousness, its grasping fingers permeating through every facet of Vader's soul.

"Sister," Vader breathed, unreadable emotions revealed even though the filter of his mask.

"Yes, father, a sister. Your daughter."

Vader said nothing in response, but Luke could feel his emotions raging, his bewilderment growing beyond all proportion.

"How does it feel, father – to know that the woman you tortured on the Death Star is none other than your own daughter?"

Though he made no response, Luke could feel a spike of guilt fill his father. Knowing he had Vader exactly where he wanted him, Luke raised his lightsaber to defend himself, all the while continuing to taunt the other man with the knowledge of the daughter he had never known.

"You must know, father, that I will never allow you to turn Leia to the dark side – much of what I have done here today was to protect her from you. If you will not join me in ending the Emperor's reign of terror, you will join him in being destroyed. I suggest you make your choice."

Again, the turmoil evident in his father prevented a reply, but Luke was grimly pleased: Vader's new found knowledge of a daughter he had never known and had tortured those years ago on the Death Star, may yet prove the final impetus to effect his transformation.

Luke could only hope.

* * *

Time seemed to stand still as Mara Jade waged her own battle with the evil which held the galaxy in its grip. Her only thought had been to end it – destroy the Emperor and send him to the abyss reserved for all of his ilk.

But after catching her breath, she had approached the mad despot, only to have him draw heavily on the Force, dispatching a wave of his lightning toward her which was stronger than anything she had ever seen or felt from him before. She had narrowly avoided it, stunned in the knowledge that it would have been her destruction if it had hit her.

Now, the Emperor's fury and power were beyond anything she had ever witnessed from him. The rage emanating from his diseased mind was a physical entity, his wrath a tangible hammer which bludgeoned her defenses and threatened her sanity in concert with his insane cackling.

She had attempted to deflect her erstwhile master's lightning back on him at the outset of their confrontation, but the old man was too crafty to be caught by such a stratagem a second time. While their duel was not as furious and dramatic as the clash between father and son, it was no less intense, for all that they had essentially fought each other to a standstill. Mara wracked her brain for some way to end the standoff and finish the Emperor, but could think of nothing. She was left with containing him and ensuring he was not able to turn his attention to Skywalker long enough for the Jedi to defeat his father; then the two of them could finish the tyrant off together, once and for all.

Mara was hardly aware of what was happening across the room when she felt the Emperor break off his assault, his piercing gaze resting on the young Jedi. Confused, Mara turned and was surprised to see Luke standing in the middle of the room, a look of anguish etched on his face. Furthermore, Vader stood to the side watching him, making no move to further the attack. From somewhere outside the four of them, Mara could feel a sense of distress – as if a being was crying out in the Force. Her training was as of yet incomplete, and she could not determine from where it was coming, or from whom. But for the first time, Mara felt what Luke had apparently sensed the entire time – Vader was deeply confused and conflicted, his emotions raging within his consciousness, so unlike the controlled despot she had known all of her life.

A sharp cackle arrested her attention and she turned back to the Emperor, taking in the expression of pure malicious glee which now suffused his face.

"A sister," he wheezed in between his laughter. "Well, well, who would have believed it?"

Not having any idea to what he was referring, Mara shifted to protect herself from imminent attack, but his attention never wavered from the drama which had engulfed the other end of the room.

"And if I remember correctly, _she,_ at least, shares her father's fiery personality. Perhaps there is another answer to my apprentice conundrum…"

Her lack of knowledge could not change the fact that his words were spoken with the utmost of malice and cunning, and Mara knew she had no choice but to continue the battle, believing Luke would eventually take up his lightsaber once again and seek to remove his father from the fight.

She began to move to attack, but the Emperor sensed her intent long before she had even begun. His eyes flicked contemptuously to her face and she was greeted once again with a burst of dark energy, which by now she had become sufficiently adept in turning aside.

"So, it comes to this, Hand," he spat, the full measure of his cruelty once again fixed upon her person. "It seems I no longer require you and your pitiful skills."

"Pitiful skills you once made use of under the most trying of circumstances," she retorted.

His answering grin was feral. "I had to give you some way to earn your bread. But as it is, you are no longer required, and I find myself forced to put you down. Such a pity."

His hands pointed toward her and once again she found herself raising her lightsaber to intersect his energy. But this time, he followed it up with an almost negligent wave of his hand and Mara felt herself flying backward at a dizzying pace, desperately trying to grab onto anything to slow her rapid path across the floor.

Pain blossomed in her head as she felt herself impact against something hard and unyielding, and she slumped to the floor.

* * *

Across the room, Luke felt Mara's pain and turned to glare at the despot who was even now chuckling with delight. After a quick glance, which showed that his father had not yet regained his senses, Luke sprinted across the floor, intercepting the Emperor as he approached the helpless young woman. Luke could sense his enemy's intent through all of his available senses, and knew if he was not swift, he would lose Mara forever.

He felt fury at the diseased old man bubbling up from deep within, but Luke forced it down, willing himself to remain calm and controlled. Mara had already saved him from the dark side and himself once – he would not allow himself to be seduced down that path yet again. Calm, dispassionate restraint was what was needed to defeat the evil.

The Emperor immediately broke off his planned assault on Mara to face Luke's threat, but even he appeared to be taken aback at the vigor of the Jedi's attack. His face showed true panic for the first time in the confrontation, as lightning spewed wildly from his fingertips and he moved desperately away from the young Jedi.

"Vader! I command you to slay this young intruder!"

His pleas had no effect on the black giant, as he remained rooted to the spot, the conflict still evident in his sense. Luke smiled grimly at the sight and pressed his attack on the Emperor, his mind working at this new opportunity to save his father, an opportunity which had seemed lost only moments before.

"Father!" he called. "You do know what this manipulator plans, do you not? He wants to make Leia his puppet in your place now that he hasn't been successful in maneuvering me into the same position."

The Emperor sputtered in rage and attempted to speak, but Luke continued to yell over his vicious lies. "Yes, Father – his use for you is at an end, now that he has a younger, less flawed option with which to work."

"Don't listen to him, Lord Vader! You have dreamed of ruling the galaxy with your son at your side once I am gone. Think of it! Now you have another option, since your son has proved so unworthy of the honor. Your daughter would prove a most admirable replacement!"

Luke laughed, a harsh, scornful sound, even to his own ears. "Controlling to the end, Your Highness. Look into his heart, Father. You will see nothing more than your death in the blackness of its depths!"

The Emperor snarled in reply, as the ferocity of his attack redoubled, a fury Luke met with cold implacability. Victory over the darkness was now within his grasp and he pressed his advantage, willing the duel to end.

"Vader! I command you to slay him!"

Luke was almost sorry for the Emperor, hearing his shrill attempts to deny what was so obvious in his sense. Yet, he it seemed like his father needed a final nudge and Luke was certain he knew exactly what it would take. "Perhaps he will keep your armor for her, once you no longer have any need of it…"

All at once, Luke felt his father begin to move, his fury and rage an almost visible entity, and although he reasserted his control in an instant, Luke could tell he only kept it under regulation with great difficulty. But Luke could spare no attention for his father, such was the force of the Emperor's attack.

He could only hope his pleas had been enough.

* * *

Pain. The only sensation left was his pain: the pain of his weary and damaged body, the pain of his soul at the way his only son had rebuffed his overtures, the pain so clearly transmitted through the Force by his only daughter – the daughter he had not even known the existence of mere moments earlier.

How had it all come to this? His life, once so full of promise, was now reduced to the insane whims of the despotic madman he had served with such diligence and faith the past twenty years. Whatever had become of his duty, his purpose, the life which had once been filled with such promise and hope? What had he become? Where had it all gone wrong? He trembled at the sudden thought of what his mother would think of what he had become.

The thought of his mother brought images of others from his past – Obi-Wan his master and friend, Master Yoda his great mentor and teacher, Master Windu, whom he had most cruelly betrayed at his moment of greatest need… He remembered master Qui-Gon, whom he had not thought of in years and the way the great master had championed his training and his belief in the young boy he had been. Images of others he had known, friends of a young boy on Tatooine, acquaintances and comrades of a young Jedi… All dust, all a part of history and his past.

But transcending them all, he was riveted to the image of his beloved wife, his Padmé, another in his long list of betrayals – and the most heartrending. He remembered her standing before him that fateful day on Mustafar, claiming he was breaking her heart through his actions; then he remembered, too, Obi-Wan's emergence from the ship and the rage he had felt upon seeing his old master and his certainty that she had betrayed him. He relived in excruciating detail what had happened next, how he had accused her of betrayal most vile, how he had held her throat in his grip, how he had clenched his fist to take her life and the lives of her unborn children. Only Obi-Wan's quick action to pull her from his grasp had saved her life.

The thought of her fate caused his thoughts to move in another direction as he wondered what had become of her once Obi-Wan had taken her from the planet. Obviously, Vader had not killed her outright that day, as he had so long believed to be the case. Of course that did nothing to absolve him of his culpability, as he was certain her death had resulted from his violent act, not to mention the effect it had had on her psyche – the heartbreak of his defection had undoubtedly contributed to her will to live.

Had the Emperor known she had not died that day? Had he known of Vader's children, or had Obi-Wan been successful in hiding their existence? Had he, perhaps, known of Luke, but not of the other child? Vader had no answers, but the fact that Palpatine had used Padmé's death as a way to enrage him, to ensure his guilt would be without remission and that he had nowhere else to turn, did not escape Vader now. Looking back on the events of the past, Vader was able to see clearly for the first time – to recognize that regardless of the Emperor's pretty words about finding a way to stave off death, he had never intended for Padmé to survive, for if she had, her firm beliefs and headstrong ways – ways which in no way agreed with Palpatine's vision of order – would forever mean Vader would be in conflict between his master on the one side and his wife on the other, dividing his loyalties. Surely the Palpatine he knew would not accept such a situation. If Vader had not so conveniently removed his wife from the equation, he had little doubt Palpatine would have engineered her destruction in some other way. Of course, with the prize of his children to consider, he doubted his master would have moved against her until she was safely delivered – the children were too valuable a prize for him to have risked their deaths. The mere thought of Palpatine in control of his young children filled Vader with rage.

And now, his master was once again attempting to induce him to turn his back on his own family and follow him blithely in continued self-destruction. His son's words floated up in his memory. _How can you live with yourself, Father?_

How indeed? The image of his wife's pain and anguish floated up from the deep recesses of his memory, mingling with his daughter's agony, his son's pain of betrayal, mixing with the siblings' determination. Even the pain of the young woman with whom his son was so obviously in love reached out and grasped at him, caressing his soul with the memory of shared emotions with his own beloved Padmé. He had destroyed his own happiness, willfully marching toward his own doom. He would not – could not – do the same to his son and his daughter. The time of reckoning had arrived.

Although he had not heard the major portion of the words which had passed between his master and his son, one phrase floated up to him and caught his attention.

_Perhaps he will keep your armor for her, once you no longer have any need of it…_

The thought of anyone, especially his own daughter, forced into an existence such as he had endured in the accursed armor filled him with utter fury, greater than anything he had ever felt; his gazed became affixed upon the cause of all his misery – _Palpatine_. He snarled at the man, his rage and fury beyond limits as he thought of what he and his family, not to mention the entire galaxy, had suffered at the hands of this man. This must _not_ be allowed to continue.

Suddenly, his fury was replaced by a calm implacability, and for the first time in his life, Darth Vader – no, _Anakin Skywalker_ – knew with an absolute certainty what he had to do.

He raised his saber and strode toward the dueling combatants, noting the Emperor's growing laughter at his approach. His lips turned up in a sardonic smirk, anticipating the surprise the tyrant would feel when he became aware of his misinterpretation of his apprentice's intentions all too late.

Bracing himself for the discomfort of the Emperor's lightning, Anakin clutched his saber in one fist and stepped between the Emperor and his son, absorbing the deadly lightning into his own body. The agony nearly drove him to his knees, but the armor which he had cursed daily for the past twenty years for once proved a boon, as it blunted the effect of Palpatine's attack.

"Lord Vader, what are you doing?" Palpatine screeched with fear.

"Something I should have done twenty years ago," Vader snarled in response.

Raising his fist, he took his lightsaber and slammed it through the Emperor's chest, cleaving through flesh and bone, impaling the Emperor's heart with one sure stroke.

The Emperor screamed, a harsh, keening wail, and he clawed at Vader's hands, his own skeletal fingers still discharging the lethal energy, which ran its way up Vader's lightsaber and through and around his entire body. He shuddered and convulsed, feeling the respirator which kept him alive begin to falter, as the damage to the electrical systems which maintained the suit began to short it out. Knowing it would all be over in a moment, he grimly held on to the saber, willing the Emperor to expire.

"I believe the Force awaits you, Palpatine," he whispered, "and I don't think it's very impressed with what you have done with your life."

All at once, Palpatine's lightning ceased and he grew still for the barest of instants. Then, his body seemed to cave back in upon itself before a massive explosion of Force energy burst out, his body. Blues, greens, reds – all the colors of the spectrum screamed past the sterile lenses of his helmet, causing him to be momentarily distracted by the thought that the Emperor's death had been more beautiful than anything he had accomplished in life. His introspection was only to last for an instant, as the force of the blast picked Anakin up and flung him across the room, throwing him away from the Emperor's final convulsive demise. By now, he could feel the damage to the suit, as it stuttered and stumbled, his vital life functions lurching along with it.

When he came to rest, Anakin lay his weary head down on the deck and allowed his eyes to close. It was finally over – he had at last had the strength to end the nightmare and throw off the shackles of his master, helping to save his children in the process. He knew he was dying, but at the end of it all, he decided he really didn't mind – his time was past. It was time to once again see his Padmé. It was time to make way for the future.

For the first time in twenty years, the long unused muscles of Anakin's face strained upward, and he felt himself indulging in a true smile of peace.

* * *

A dazed Luke Skywalker lifted his head and gazed around the room in astonishment. The room had grown silent, the stillness of deep space, in the aftermath of the Emperor's destruction. Luke had never felt anything like what had just occurred, had never felt the raw power unleashed for such destruction. He struggled to understand, but, above all, this one thing was clear – the Emperor was dead; his reign of terror and ruin was over.

Groaning, Luke pushed himself up on his hands and knees, grateful he had not been at the epicenter of the despot's destruction – although he had not escaped unscathed, the small distance had allowed him to erect a makeshift barrier and he had only received minor bumps and bruises as a result. His father…

Luke's head shot up and he peered around the room, at the same time becoming aware of the halting sound of his father's respirator. He was able to spot him immediately – he had come to rest on the far side of the room against a large support; his Force sense was weak and indistinct. Desperate to get to his father, Luke swayed to his feet, but he stopped abruptly as the sight of Mara leaning against the wall, her expression blank, her eyes closed, arrested his vision. Two warring desires pulled at him, the woman he loved on the one side, the need to finally _meet_ his father on the other.

"Go to her, my son; she needs you," the voice of his father floated up to him, apparently sensing his indecision.

To Luke's ears, the voice was weary and wan, but he acknowledged the logical request, knowing his father had not much longer to live. He staggered the first few steps, but soon found his balance and rushed to her side. At his approach, her eyes opened and she stared at him, her wonder over the events of the past moments evident on her face.

"Mara, are you all right?"

She nodded her head in a jerky, unsteady motion, then winced at the pain he could see in her eyes. Luke knelt at her side and pulled her to him, enfolding her in a tight embrace. She clung desperately to him, her emotions barely in check. Luke soothed her as one would a baby, murmuring in her ear that it was over; they were finally free.

Noting the matted blood on the back of her head, Luke turned her gently in his arms and looked closely at the area, feeling her wince when his probing fingers wandered too close to her injury. Fortunately, nothing major seemed to be wrong with her.

"Well, you'll likely have a headache after this, but I don't think there is any major damage."

She nodded at him, glancing across the room to where Vader still lay. "I can't believe it's over."

"Well, we do still have to get off the station, you know."

His attempt at levity was only partially successful. She smiled briefly, but continued to study the form lying on the other side of the room.

"I would never have believed it if I hadn't seen it."

Following her line of thought, Luke grinned at her. "I told you he could be redeemed."

"So you did."

Luke studied her, an uncertainty in her manner alerting him to her possible feelings of inadequacy. "Mara, in all beings there exists a capacity for either great good or evil. It stands to reason that no one who has gone in either direction cannot turn from that path and act in the opposite manner – Master Yoda constantly preached of the need to avoid temptation and beware of the dark side for this reason. I knew my father had the ability to be saved not only because of the conflict I felt in him, but also because of the man he had once been. Every being has the potential to be saved, no matter how far they have gone."

"Even the Emperor?" she queried, the beginnings of a smirk forming on her face.

Laughing at her blatant skepticism, Luke shook his head and focused on her once again. "Well, I _suppose_ there are always exceptions to every rule."

She stared at him in mock surprise. "Well, if that isn't the most un-Jedi thing you've ever said!"

They laughed openly, holding each other in a tight embrace.

All at once, though, reality set in and the urgency of the situation intruded upon their consciousness. They drew away from each other and in immediate understanding rose to their feet to take stock of the situation and see to their ultimate escape.

Crossing the floor quickly, Luke knelt beside his father, Mara once again at his side, and peered at the shell of the man lying on the deck. His father's respirator sounded damaged, no longer the strong, determined rhythm of the past as it stumbled on in an alarming asynchronous rhythm, tottering along like a drunken man. The lights on the front of his suit had been half smashed, and there were burns and rents in the armor. It was clear it would not function much longer.

"Thank you, Father," said Luke, his voice quiet, yet filled with sincerity.

"It was merely something I should have done years ago, son," was the answer. "You cannot even begin to comprehend how much I regret ever following him."

"Now is not the time to think of it, Father. You made the right choice in the end and that is what is important."

A wheezing chuckle met his declaration. "If I didn't already know you were my son, that statement would have convinced me. You are ever the optimist, just like her."

"My mother?" Luke asked, feeling a lump in his throat.

"Yes. I wish you could have met her… If I hadn't been so blind, you would have grown up with her."

"Father, that's in the past. It's time to think about the future."

"Son, the future for me can be measured in the next few moments."

There was nothing to be said in the face of his statement – Luke knew it was only the truth. A part of him wept at the thought he was about to lose his father, just after finding him. The more rational part realized there _was_ no future for his father – his time as Darth Vader, the things he had done as the Emperor's right hand man… they made the possibility of living out a natural life difficult at best. Besides, Luke could sense his father welcomed the end.

"Luke," he began again after a moment, "please do not mourn for me. Use my life as a lesson and a warning. Remember what Obi-Wan and Yoda taught you and rebuild the Jedi to be even greater than what they once were."

"I will, Father. We will try to avoid some of the mistakes which were made and turn the Jedi into an even greater force for good in the galaxy."

A sharply raised brow greeted Luke's statement. "Son, I knew Master Yoda long enough to know what he would have said about _trying_."

A bubble of laughter escaped Luke's lips. "So you did. We will rebuild the Jedi, Father, I give you my word."

"Good. Now, my son, my final request of you is to help me get this infernal mask off."

He seemed to sense the question in Luke's gaze and he continued. "It filters out so much of what I can see, making everything seem sterile and lifeless. I would like to look upon one of my children with my own eyes, if only for a moment. Besides, just once I need to face you without this mask between us."

Luke and Mara exchanged a glance in silence, before they moved to honor his father's request. Together, they grasped the heavy helmet, which had covered his father's head for more than twenty years, off his head. The complicated breathing apparatus, complete with voice modulator and countless other items necessary to his father's continued existence, was then removed and finally, after years of dreaming, wondering what it would be like to face his father, Luke met his father's eyes.

Anakin Skywalker's eyes were blue, a deeper and darker blue than Luke's own, and even after having been hidden behind his mask for decades, they were sharp, seeming to pierce through Luke's very existence. His face was ghostly white – it had not seen the light of any sun in over two decades – and there was a large scar running from his forehead which disappeared around the back of his head. He was completely bald, no hair appearing anywhere on his face.

Although time, the effects of years under the influence of the dark side, the damage due to his injuries and his pale complexion made it difficult, Luke could see a family resemblance, in the shape of his father's eyes, his jaw, and even the way his father now smiled up at him. It was a tremulous, heart-felt smile of joy, occurring finally after a life full of sorrow and pain, and it warmed Luke's heart to know that at the end, his father was to find peace. Luke could see himself in that smile – the family resemblance and the recognition of a kindred spirit. Meeting his father for the first time – truly meeting him – was not as he had always dreamed, but somehow, he knew it was enough.

Yet, his father's smile was tinged with sadness – shame for the actions of a wasted life, regret he had never truly known his son, sorrow that they would never, in this life, know what it was to be bonded as father and son. There was love in that smile as well – love for the son he had never known, the knowledge that he had finally been able to conquer himself, to move beyond the past and see his progeny as something more than tools to be used to further his own ambitions. Luke could not tell what his father had suffered over the years, or understand how he had felt or what his thoughts had been, but Luke knew without any doubt that no matter what the Emperor had attempted to bring Anakin Skywalker under his thumb, his father had never truly had the light of love and goodness driven from his soul. Somehow, through all the years, Anakin had kept the memory of his wife and the Jedi in his heart and had endured.

"I am sorry, my son," his father intoned, his voice solemn and thoughtful.

Luke said nothing in response, realizing that on some level, to someone, Anakin needed to say this, to make his apology. Who better to hear it than his own son? Besides, to brush it off and claim no apologies were necessary would be to diminish the suffering of the galaxy at the hands of the Sith since even before Palpatine had seized power. Luke could not, would not, make light of the life his father had led.

Anakin seemed to take heart at the encouraging smile Luke showed him. "I was stupid, my son – stupid and blind. I allowed Palpatine to lead me about by the nose, allowed him to deceive me. I am not making excuses for my behavior – I followed him willingly into the abyss, and I regret every decision I made in his favor."

"Why did you do it, father? What possessed you to follow him?"

A sigh and a grimace of regret answered his question and Anakin cast his eyes down, deep in thought.

"You must understand that Palpatine was not always as he is now. At one time, he appeared to be the benevolent leader of the galaxy, truly concerned with the welfare of all. He was elected Chancellor soon after I met the Jedi, and although the Jedi distrusted him when he stayed in office after his term was finished, he was always kind to me, always ready to talk, to give advice, to be a friend. It was only after the Clone Wars had dragged on for several years that he asked me to join him and I saw him for what he was."

"What happened?"

He was silent for several moments, obviously lost in the memory of those long ago events, his brows creased and narrowed as he contemplated his actions. Luke shot a questioning look at Mara, but she shook her head in answer to his obvious question. She had not known anything of this story, for her master had not deemed her important enough to be informed.

The dying man began to cough, desperate hacking gasps which wracked his body. The unfiltered air and faltering reserves of his armor were obviously taking their toll. Luke understood this, but also that his father needed to make his final confession; thus he set the breathing apparatus to his father's mouth and allowed him to breathe deeply for several moments before Anakin removed it once again and faced his son.

"I had been having dreams which foretold the death of your mother in childbirth. I was desperate to prevent that from happening. I could not bear to lose her as I had lost my mother… I'm sorry, Luke, but you don't know what it was like to watch my mother die in my arms – the helplessness I felt as she passed away in the Force. I vowed I would never be helpless like that again, that I would never let another be taken from me as she had been."

His eyes glazed over in remembered pain, and Luke gazed at him, curious of the events of his father's past, but knowing there was no time to get into protracted stories.

Anakin shook his head, clearing his mind, and continued. "I married her, although it was expressly against the Jedi Code, but we kept it secret so I could maintain my position with the Jedi. Palpatine somehow guessed our secret and began regaling me with tales of the ancient Sith and how they had been able to preserve life. It never even occurred to me to question how he knew about the dreams, but somehow he did."

A harsh laugh escaped his lips and his voice took on the bitterness of a life wasted. "He played on my insecurities, wooed me with his flattering words, speaking about how we would save her, rediscover the secrets of life together. I see now he never intended for her to survive, although he was undoubtedly interested in my unborn child. I was a blind fool."

"You never knew about Leia?"

"Never," he confirmed. "Padmé never told me she was carrying twins, but why she kept it a secret, I cannot tell. It may have been she didn't want to burden me any further with the demands of the war and my worries for her safety. Until the battle of Yavin, I never knew of your existence either. I had always assumed you had died with her."

"How did she die?"

"I don't know, exactly," he responded, his face lowered in shame. "She was alive the last time I saw her, through no help of my own, and I assume she died in childbirth… i can only conjecture she lost the will to live. There are so many things I regret – so many things I wish I could change… It was the ultimate irony, Luke – I, who would have done anything, given everything, turned to the greatest evil to save her, but it was my actions which eventually led to her death."

He lapsed into silence, and Luke, although grateful for the information his father now shared with him, was anxious to hear more, to learn of the history of his family and the Jedi. But he could tell it was not to be; his father was withering before his very eyes and Luke could tell the end was near. There seemed to be an expectancy in the Force, as if all of creation held its breath, awaiting the return of one of its greatest.

Anakin roused himself once again to look at his son. "Take care, my son; do not make the same mistakes I made."

"I will, Father."

"Take care of each other," he spoke to both, taking them both in his gaze. "The Jedi of old did not allow relationships, and from their point of view, their reasons were sound, as my history shows. But if you can love one another, without the possessiveness and fear of loss which were my greatest failings, the help and support of a partner can be invaluable. Love one another, but do not let your emotions be ruled by possessiveness, or they will consume you."

Glancing at Mara, Luke noted her slightly flushed face and the way she would only meet his eyes for a moment. He knew she was still uncertain of their relationship in light of the secrets she had kept from him, but he was grateful to have her with him in this difficult time. They would face many challenges in the future, and knowing the task of rebuilding the Jedi was one he could share with this beautiful, amazing woman brought a sense of comfort and rightness which suffused his soul. He would have to be patient with her, easing her from the casual tyranny which had marked her relationship with the Emperor. He certainly didn't mind – he could conjure up a lifetime worth of patience if it meant she would remain by his side.

"So, I was right – there is something going on between the two of you," his father said, accompanying the words with something between a wheeze and a chuckle.

Luke's sudden furious blush brought a smile to his father's face. "You are wearing the same look on your face which was undoubtedly on mine every time I was near your mother as a young man."

The thought of his father young and in love brought a smile to Luke's face and he reached out to squeeze Mara's hand. Her response was everything he could have wanted.

"I wish we had more time, Luke," his father said.

Luke could tell his strength was fading fast. The sound of his father's breathing was becoming shallower and more labored. A new wave of sorrow washed over him, but he forced it down, understanding it was for the best.

"So do I, Father. But I'm glad to have finally met you. It has made everything we've endured worth the effort."

Anakin nodded, his breaths now coming in painful gasps. "You will be a great Jedi, my son. Now, leave me, and tell your sister you were right about me. Tell her I regret everything that came between us – tell her I wish I could have known her better. Tell her I'm sorry."

Understanding his father's last desperate apology for what had happened on the first Death Star, Luke reached out and grasped his father's hand. "I will, Father. I will tell her everything."

A small smile graced Anakin's lips and with one last shuddering breath, his eyes closed and he slumped back against the deck. Tears started in Luke's eyes, but he shook his head and laid the armored gauntlet on his father's chest, dipping his head in reverence for the passage of his father.

He stayed that way for a moment, gazing at the face of the man who had given him life, sorrowing for the past and the circumstances which had caused him to have grown up without knowing the man.

A slight movement caught Luke's attention and he peered closely at the form of his father, noticing a slight shimmering at the edges of his father's face. The flickering gradually grew more distinct, rippling waves spread across Anakin Skywalker's face and then with a final burst of white light, he faded from view, leaving the empty husk of his armor behind, cold and unmoving in its emptiness.

Luke exchanged a wondering look with Mara, as tears gathered in the corners of his eyes.

"What does it mean, Luke?" she asked, her voice hushed and reverent.

"It means he's been forgiven," Luke responded, confident, yet emotional.

Mara's eyes widened and she stared at him in amazement. "But all he's done in the past twenty years…"

"I don't claim to understand it, Mara. But something tells me he's been forgiven, that despite whatever mistakes he made in his life, his act of selflessness in destroying Palpatine has resulted in the atonement of his wrongs."

Still disbelieving, Mara gazed back at him, her features showing shock and disbelief, as well as a certain wonder.

"Perhaps he was born to do this, Mara. I don't know, but something tells me he has been accepted back into the Force. He has finally returned to join Yoda, Obi-Wan, and all the other Jedi who have gone before. I'm thankful he's returned home."

She seemed to consider this for a moment and glanced back at him with a shy smile. "I'm happy for him, then. I think he often considered me a rival and he was brusque and short with me, but his manner never approached the blatant unkindness and sadism of the Emperor."

"Thank you for being here and for making the right choice," he told her, his voice filled with emotion.

"The choice never would have been made without your influence, Luke," she responded.

Luke glanced over at his father. "I wish I had more time to know him. I think I'll have to get you to tell me about him some time."

Looking a little uncomfortable at the suggestion, Mara still nodded, indicating her willingness to tell him anything he wanted. Knowing her as he did, he knew she would be feeling guilty about her past and doubting she could shed any light on his father's true character, but with the events of the day, Luke was hungry for any information he could possibly glean from her narration. Anything at all would do.

His attention was caught by a sudden rumbling, accompanied by a pronounced shuddering in the massive space station. Peering out the window at the battle being fought above the Death Star, Luke could tell something had changed. Although it was difficult to make out any details due to the distance, the smaller ships seemed to be swarming over their larger foes, and the massive bulk of his father's flagship was absent from his view. Knowing instantly the tide had turned, Luke took stock of their situation, convinced they had mere minutes to get off the station.

Meeting Mara's gaze, he could tell in an instant that she had come to the same conclusion.

"We need to get off this station."

"The Emperor has a ship docked nearby, I'm certain. We can use it to escape."

Luke studied her intently.

"I've seen the blueprints," she replied, her manner bashful. "Besides, he would never go anywhere without having an escape route planned in advance."

"We'd better move, then."

Getting to his feet, Luke bent and affixed the helmet back to the now empty armor; then, taking hold of the arms of his father's armor, he began to drag it in the direction Mara indicated.

"Luke, what are you doing?"

Meeting her quizzical gaze, Luke gestured in response, motioning her to precede him down the corridor. "I know his remains are gone, but I'd like to show my respect for him by treating his non-organic remains with the proper respect."

Shaking her head, Mara nevertheless made no further comment. She stepped back, and, grasping one of the arms in her hands, she helped him drag it in the direction of the small hangar off to the side of the throne room.

As she suspected, a modified shuttle stood in the hangar, its engines upgraded, and its defensive systems reinforced and bristling with the latest in technology and firepower. Whatever else could be said about the Emperor, he had a strong sense of self-preservation and the ability to ensure his protection was top of the line.

"You get the shuttle prepped for takeoff, while I get the armor into the ship," Luke directed.

Nodding at his instruction, Mara headed for the cockpit, as Luke ensured the suit was stowed in the cargo hold. Within moments, she had the ship under way, setting course for the moon below, away from the site of the Emperor's death, heading into a future filled with the hope for freedom.

* * *

Cinders from the fire flew up into the darkening Endor sky. Mingling with the evening sounds of the forest, the fire's eager tongues consumed and purified the last physical remains of the last Sith Lord, which lay in repose upon the bier. His redemption at the very moment of his death still had the power to amaze, even humble, the two young humans maintaining a vigil at his side.

Mara glanced at her companion, noting his quiet contemplation of the bonfire, his brows knit up in deep thought. Although his barriers had been closed since their departure from the Death Star, Mara could sense an almost distracted and pensive air about him, as though he was considering something of great depth and importance – or considering their relationship.

If she were to admit it to herself, Mara knew she was afraid. What would she do if he decided she was no longer worth the effort and broke off their relationship? A part of her said she was worrying needlessly – after all, she had heard him pledge his love to her, had felt his emotions as clearly as though they were her own, had understood his devotion and commitment, once given, were as strong and immovable as the forest floor beneath her feet. She knew she should have nothing to fear.

And yet, the fear she had felt before the confrontation with her former master, the fear Luke would hate her for what she had been and done, had now returned to haunt her, filling her with scenarios and visions of what her life would be without his continued support and presence in her life. That was, of course, if he did not simply hand her over to the Alliance authorities as an assassin and enemy combatant. His quiet and pensive attitude, which had persisted the entirety of the afternoon, had not filled her with confidence, instead seeming to speak to his ongoing thought over what he was to do with her now that the Emperor was finally destroyed and the Imperial fleet driven from Endor.

What she would do without his support in her life she could not tell – he had become as necessary to her as the air she breathed, not only for his knowledge in the Force, but also for himself. She had come to understand that they complemented each other perfectly – his knowledge to her experience in the galaxy, his sometimes impetuous nature to her calm rationality, his idealism to her pragmatism. She loved him, wholeheartedly. Now that she was able to admit it to him, it seemed a cruel fate if he was to reconsider and banish her from his presence.

She stole another sidelong glance at him, trying to memorize his profile in case she was forced to leave him, and thought back on the day's events He had been calm and in control as they left the doomed station moments before its destruction, calling off the Alliance fighters which had swarmed over them within moments of their departure. The subsequent conversation with Leia had been amusing, to say the least – she had not been happy once he informed her he had something to take care of and would not join her until later in the evening. Her suspicion had been evident in her voice as she had queried regarding the whereabouts of 'Arica'. His reassurance that she was indeed with him, and that no, she had not betrayed him, had taken some time for her to accept, but in the end she had been forced to yield to his promise that she would see him once his business had been completed. It would take some time for Mara to gain the princess's complete trust and reassurance.

It had not been until they had arrived on the moon that Mara had sensed a change in his demeanor and noticed his withdrawing into himself. They had not spoken more than a dozen words since their arrival, through the gathering of the wood and the arrangement into a bier, to the lighting of the fire and the subsequent time they had spent by its side, watching it burn his father's remains in the manner of the ancient Jedi. That much, it seemed, he had known of his Jedi heritage, although from where he had acquired the information, Mara could not say.

Anakin Skywalker's death had not hit her in the manner it had affected his son. He had been an elusive figure for most of her life, only interacting with her when necessity demanded it, avoiding her at all other times. He had certainly not been cruel and capricious as her master had been with her, but his tendency to avoid her had not given her any means to draw into any emotional attachment with him, and his short, almost angry manner in the times in which he had been forced into her company had left her with a certain healthy respect for him, not to mention a desire to never give him reason to be overtly displeased with her.

With a sigh, Mara shifted her weight and chanced another glance at her companion, only to see him regarding her, an intense, focused expression on his face. Mara felt her heart flutter painfully in her chest as she understood her fate was now to be decided. Whatever he had been pondering, it appeared he had come to some sort of resolution. The grip of fear settled itself into her being as she returned his gaze.

"Thank you, Mara," he said, something she had not expected to hear, as overwrought as her emotions had become.

She blushed and looked down, mumbling her reply.

"You know, calling you Mara seems strange… yet right. I called you Arica for so long it should feel strange to refer to you as Mara, but it doesn't. It's almost as if I never knew the real you in your Arica persona."

"No, Luke," she answered, her eyes rising to his for a moment, allowing him to see the passion in her response. It lasted only a moment before she flushed once again and once again lowered her gaze to the fire. "I think… You are the first one to ever see the real Mara. I wasn't just playing a part – I was myself for the first time."

"What do you mean?"

She could tell he was not angry, just curious in his question. She hardly knew what she was trying to say to him, only that it was important for him to know she was more herself in his presence than she had ever been in her life.

"I wish I could give you a coherent response, Luke," she replied still peering into the fire. "I'm not certain I completely understand myself. All I know, is I was not… _encouraged_ to have a lot of initiative or show any individuality when I was growing up and I think I hid in the 'Emperor's Hand persona'. I've never been allowed to be myself, and I never let myself show in any of my previous missions – it was all just my master, his orders and the mission. With you, I was slowly able to shed that all, until you were left with just Mara. For once in my life, I was making decisions on my own, being accepted for who I was rather than just being an adjunct to the Emperor."

"But it wasn't really you, was it?" Luke asked quietly. "You were certainly not being yourself when you lied about your past and hid the fact that you worked for the Emperor. I'm not certain I ever saw the real you."

Mara glanced at up at him, her previously forgotten confidence returning in a rush of anger. As suddenly as it appeared, her anger was spent and she lowered her gaze again. "I suppose it must seem that way to you. It's just that… Betraying Palpatine is not something taken lightly."

"No, I suppose it wasn't."

His choice of words caused her to turn startled eyes back into his face as hope filled her being.

His mouth turned up in a slight smile as he witnessed her reaction. "You can't think I'm insensible of the courage it took to stand up to your master in the throne room, do you? I'm grateful to you, Mara – I would never have defeated them both on my own. It was your choice, your actions, which have allowed me to survive the ordeal. You have my eternal gratitude."

She cocked her head at his speech, wondering what he meant by it. Gratitude was one thing, but it did not imply he still felt the love for her he had declared on the shuttle. Mara felt herself almost breathless and lightheaded in anticipation of his next words.

"Mara, do you recall telling me on the shuttle you didn't know why you did not use your blaster on me when you had the chance on Jabba's barge?"

His choice of subject could not have surprised her more had he suddenly begun speaking of Tusken mating rituals. It was all she could do to nod her agreement to his question and stare back at him.

Chuckling at her response, Luke reached out and grasped her hand in his before continuing. "I was just curious… Do you have any greater understanding now of why you could not pull that trigger?"

Uncertain as to why he had referred back to this event in their history, Mara nevertheless considered back to the time on the barge, feeling again her triumph as she peered through her blaster sights at his unprotected back. She tried to recollect the feelings she had experienced which had precipitated her hesitation and hasty reaction to the thug who had suddenly appeared in her sight. And even further back, she recalled her grudging admiration for his resourcefulness and remembered her reaction to her first knowledge of his approaching presence and how their eyes had met in the throne room.

She glanced up at his eyes and let her gaze fall to her hand, which was clasped in his warm embrace, before she sighed and responded. "I don't know, Luke. I suppose I felt a… a connection of some sort. From the first moment I sensed you approaching Jabba's throne room, you were… different… different from what I'd been led to expect, different from anyone else I'd ever met. I felt a strong… attraction from the first moments of our being in the same vicinity of one another."

"As did I."

His response was quiet and controlled, but the emotions underlying his words almost took Mara's breath away. She gazed into his eyes and found herself lost within their depths, now certain the regard he had expressed on the shuttle had not been lost. It was still reflected within their blue depths and she felt tears pricking the corners of her own eyes as she realized she would not be sent away.

"Looking back on it, can you tell me anything else?"

A small laugh escaped her lips and she regarded him through tear-filled eyes. "I suppose you're going to claim the Force brought us together?"

"Can you doubt it?"

She shook her head, amused by his romantic nature. "I don't know what brought us together, Luke, but I'm very grateful it did – whatever it was."

"Mara, think about it – you, the Emperor's servant, with a perfect record of success in past missions, find yourself in the ideal situation to complete your mission, yet you hesitate, though you've never done so before. What other explanation is there?"

"I don't know, Luke. I've thought about it and can't explain it. I was trained to act, not think, and for whatever reason, I was not able to fire that blaster, although my ability certainly reasserted itself when I saw that thug step out and try to do my job for me."

"Exactly," he emphasized. "You have thought about it, and yet, you can't explain it. So let me explain it for you."

She regarded him with a slight smile turning up the corners of her mouth, waiting for him to continue.

He responded with a grin and a squeeze of his hand, as he began stroking the back of hers with his thumb. "You couldn't fire at me, because you felt this connection between us, the likes of which you had never felt before. We _were_ connected, Mara, before our encounter in the throne room, before we met, before either of us knew of the other's existence. Obi-Wan, Yoda – hell, even my father and the Emperor – they all liked to talk of destiny and how some things were predetermined, without our input and without our consent. I believe we were destined to meet, to redeem my father and help him defeat the Emperor to restore freedom to the galaxy. No other explanation makes sense."

"It's a very romantic view, Luke."

"Can you dispute it?"

The look in his eyes, combined with their closeness and her emotions running rampant, caused Mara to avert her eyes. "No, Luke," she answered, her voice almost inaudible, "I can't."

They sat in silence for some moments, each studying the other, basking in the currents running between them. The fire had died down somewhat and the still glowing embers bathed their faces in its red glow.

"Is that all?"

His gaze turned quizzical. "Is what all?"

"We were meant to meet and save the galaxy? If that's all there was to it, then it's not nearly as romantic as I thought."

A laugh escaped his lips and he pulled him to her, resting her head on his chest. "You're referring to us and this… connection we have?"

She nodded her head, not trusting her voice.

"I think I have to take the credit for that."

"You?" she responded incredulously, pushing away from him and peering once more into his eyes. "I suppose I had nothing to do with it?"

"When I had to drag you kicking and screaming into it?" he responded with a laugh. "It sounds like it was more my doing than yours."

Mara was silent for a moment, considering his words and the meaning behind them. She knew he did not doubt her feelings for him, and his words had the effect of relieving her anxiety; yet, a little niggling feeling still held sway over her heart.

"So, our little adventure in the Emperor's throne room hasn't changed your mind about me?"

"No, Mara," he said simply. "In fact, I've never been more certain of anything in my life than I am of this. We complement each other in so many ways; I find that I am even more in love with you now than I was then."

Tears gathered in her eyes, to fall on his shirt as she hugged him to herself, a joy which she had never before felt filling her heart. Against all odds, regardless of all that had come between them, he still loved her. She would not be alone after all.

"Thank you, Luke. I can't tell you how happy that makes me."

"So, you figure you can put up with a mere farm boy from a third rate planet?" he drawled.

"Just watch me," she responded with a delighted laugh.

She sighed and settled into his embrace, and they were silent, both content with the new-found feeling of shared emotion, shared purpose, the prospect of a life bound to each other, which now stretched out before them. Mara felt her miserable existence in servitude to the Emperor and the events of her childhood begin to slip away from her, relegated to the past, where they should be. It was all due to the influence of this man in her life. She knew she would spend the rest of her life trying to repay the debt of his compassion and assistance. It was a debt she was happy to repay.

"In case I've never said it before, I love you, Luke."

Feeling his arms tightening around her, Mara instinctively dropped her shields and reached out for his presence. They met in exquisite communion, as for an instant all barriers between them dropped and they became as one being, their secrets, their entire beings now bared before each other.

As much as Mara would have expected it to be uncomfortable to be so exposed to Luke's view, she found the opposite to be true – there was an immense feeling of relief and pleasure to be connected so intimately to another. It was also a final confirmation of their mutual attraction and love, a confirmation of all they had struggled for and had overcome. It was peace.

The feeling only lasted for an instant, and soon Mara felt them part, felt their consciousness once again separate, felt a moment of intense loss.

"That was… amazing," the awed voice of Luke Skywalker breathed in her ear.

"Did… did you know it was possible?" she responded after a moment's hesitation, after she had brought herself back under control.

"No, but I want to experience it again."

Mara said nothing in response, but she could only agree, as she nestled further into his embrace.

Silence reigned over the clearing, except for the occasional popping of the dying embers of Anakin Skywalker's funeral pyre, and Mara basked in the shared feeling of love and devotion. Her happy ending had occurred, in spite of everything. Finally, she was home.

* * *

Some time later the last remaining members of the Jedi Order made their way back to the Ewok village, where the celebration party was already in full swing. Massive bonfires had been lit for the occasion, and the large part of the Alliance freedom fighters were in attendance – or at least those who could be spared from the pursuit of the remnants of the Imperial fleet. The atmosphere was festive and lively, as many of these men and women, most of whom had fought against the tyranny of the Empire for much of their lives, now gave themselves over to the feeling of relief and accomplishment. Surely the Empire was not completely defeated, but with the Sith defeated, the rest would fall into place. It was a problem for another day – tonight was to be given over to laughing, joking, dancing – the communal outlet for celebration, both for the victory won that day and the providence which had allowed their survival.

Into this maelstrom of activity and delight, the two Jedi arrived, greeted enthusiastically by friends new and old, held up as heroes, a distinction earned by the their bravery and an obdurate will to overthrow the Emperor at all costs. Congratulations flowed in and the small band of friends laughed and slapped each others' backs, each grateful for the presence and friendship of the others.

And to their small intimate party, the events of the night were punctuated with the acceptance of a new member to their exclusive fraternity, although for the princess, that recognition was difficult and hesitant. Solo merely shook his head and smirked at the obvious closeness exhibited by the two Jedi, while Lando, although still wondering over his lack of success with the beautiful young woman, congratulated them in their success, while accepting their return commendations for his own part in the events of the day.

A flickering at the edge of the celebration caught the attention of the two Jedi, and for an instant, three ephemeral beings joined the celebration, their faces shining with benign good humor and pride.

The scene was particularly poignant for one young Jedi, as he beheld his father, who looked as he would have as a young man, his features easily recognizable and similar to his own. The tears in his eyes reflected his joy at seeing the final confirmation of his father's redemption and admittance into the Force, his being in the company of his mentors, the men who had prepared his son for his own task, now successfully completed.

The meeting was emotional, yet momentary, as soon the old Jedi had faded from view, leaving the new Jedi to their own devices, a final parting and benevolent passing of the torch. It was now up to them, the rebuilding of the Jedi, the healing of the galaxy, the future, in all its myriad possibilities.

The two Jedi exchanged a look, then a smile, before turning back to the festivities, their hands clasped and their hearts as one.

The past had been conquered.

The future was about to begin.


	17. Epilogue

**A/N: **Well, here it finally is. I really only have myself to blame for the delay on this one - I had exactly what I wanted to do with it in mind for a long time, but was busy doing other things, getting distracted by other fandoms, and a healthy amount of laziness among other things. It's finally finished, though it took long enough. There are a couple of things I do want to point out before we get to the story.

First, do not hold your breath on a sequel. Besides the fact I am not really much in to Star Wars fics at the moment, I had always intended this to be a standalone - you can use your own imagination to determine what happens in the future. As far as Star Wars fics go, I still have my eternal, ongoing KotOR fic which still sits on the shelf (hope to have the next chapter out in a couple of weeks) and that Owen/Beru meet Mara fic in my head, but when I'll actually get to it is anyone's guess. Other than that, most of the other projects I'm working on are in other fandoms.

Second, for anyone who would like to complain that Mara is OOC in this chapter, yes she is! Please remember that the Mara you know from canon had five years of bitterness to color her character, which this Mara does not. Plus, I changed the character slightly in her attitudes toward relationships, physical and emotional, which I am relatively certain Zahn never intended, or at the very least, he never touched on to my knowledge.

Finally, this has been a great ride, and I'm glad I took the time to do it - I've learned a lot from it and had a blast along the way. On the other hand, as most other writers can attest to, there is nothing like the feeling of accomplishment and knowing it is finally DONE!

Thanks to everyone for their comments and support. Enjoy the epilogue.

**Epilogue**

Light streamed in through the windows set high in the west wall of the Jedi Temple, illuminating the entrance hall in soft pinks and yellows of the late afternoon Coruscant sun. The sparsely populated yet massive hall gleamed, showing off its polished surfaces in their newly restored glory. Across the length of the chamber, a group of New Republic dignitaries walked, peering up at the majestic arches and splendor of the temple, guided on their tour by one of the older apprentices. Such sights had been common of late, as all wanted to see what had been done to the ancient edifice and more importantly, how the government's tax credits were being used to restore the temple to its former magnificence, and the Jedi to their pre-Palpatine place in the galaxy.

At one end of the hall, Luke Skywalker sat contemplating the work which had been completed, basking in the feeling of contentment and peace his new home imparted. It had been a lot of work – it continued to be a lot of work – but for Luke, it was all worth it. He was fulfilling the promise he had made, both to his masters, but also to his father. The Jedi were rising again in the galaxy and Luke was determined the mistakes of the past would be overcome and put back _in_ the past where they belonged.

As he gazed around, Luke thought back to the previous three and a half years, marveling at the progress which had been made to repair the damage the insane despot had wrought on the galaxy and the Jedi.

The Battle of Endor had been the catalyst and turning point in the war with the Empire. With the Emperor dead and the new Death Star gone, the Empire's vise grip on the galaxy had been loosened. Pressing the advantage, the Alliance, soon to become the New Republic, had launched an all out offensive against the still dangerous Empire, forcing them back on several fronts, ultimately capturing the capital planet of the galaxy in a daring (some would say foolhardy) but brilliantly planned and executed surprise attack some six months after the destruction of the Death Star. While the military operation had indeed been an unparalleled success, even more importantly it reinforced to the galaxy the seriousness of the Alliance's political and military power within the galaxy, prompting systems to defect from the oppressive remains of the Empire to join the newly formed Republic in droves.

From there, the remains of the Empire had become even more fractured, with infighting among the various factions becoming even more commonplace and bitter, prompting several split off groups from the main body of the Empire. Although each in its way proved most problematic – despotic warlords intent on reconstituting the 'glory of the Empire' and backed into a corner, were as dangerous as a starving wild beast, after all – yet in some ways, it had made the New Republic military's job all that much easier, as the smaller enemies could be concentrated on separately and destroyed piecemeal. A fractured and divided enemy was undoubtedly much easier to deal with than an enemy united by a common cause and purpose.

Of course, the post-Palpatine Empire was one which had been left leaderless and bereft of anything resembling a common purpose, other than a sudden pressing and dire struggle to survive as an entity. Then again, even under the Emperor, the only purpose Luke could see in the two decades of oppression was the need to dominate, solely for the purpose of aggrandizing its leader and placing himself above the rest of the galaxy. If there had been some other deep set purpose for Palpatine's government, it had been known only to the man himself – even Mara was unable to shed any light on the motivations of the evil man.

The offensive which had taken Coruscant, and subsequently the rest of the Core Worlds, had finally petered out after another year following the fall of the capital and since then, although the Republic had continued to gain ground against the faltering military of the Empire, the gains were much slower and more measured. Still, it was a remarkable turnaround from the hopeless years of guerilla fighting and rearguard actions which had characterized the last few years of the Alliance.

Glancing around the Jedi Temple once again, Luke was struck by the transformation the old edifice had undergone in the three years since they had taken Coruscant. It had been a chance remark from Mara which had alerted him to the existence of the building and its history, and once Luke had known of it, he had insisted on seeing it immediately, much to his wife's amusement.

Even to this day, Luke still felt a certain level of sardonic amusement at the petty and vindictive nature of the previous ruler of the galaxy. A little investigation and they had learned the temple had been put to use by the Emperor as a high-security prison for the worst of his political enemies. They had found an old holo recording of the Emperor making the announcement of the new use for the building, in which the Emperor had taken a certain childish delight in emphasizing the fact that in his view it was fitting that the 'home of murderers and traitors', should become the new site of incarceration for the worst of the new order's 'malcontents and those who would bring the legitimate galactic government down to the detriment of its people'.

Nearly three years later and after extensive remodeling, the temple had been restored to its former grandeur; its walls once again hummed with the raw power of the Force, which its inhabitants used to help guide the galaxy toward peace and prosperity. There were still some parts of the temple which were under continued construction, but it was now livable and usable as the Jedi headquarters. If only there were enough Jedi to fill its hallowed halls as there had been in the past.

Shrugging aside the thought, Luke tried to focus on what the Jedi had been able to achieve, rather than the things they were not yet able to do, due to the lack of numbers. They were slowly returning to their place of prominence and relevance in the galaxy, due to the efforts of those whom Luke and Mara had been able to identify and persuade to undergo the training of the Jedi. It had been a daunting task – it still was, in fact – but they had been able to achieve so much. And much of it was due to the woman who had been at his side since that fateful day on Tatooine.

As always, the thought of his fiery wife brought a smile to Luke's face, as he contemplated the effect she had had on his life. By himself, he knew he was capable, but together the two of them formed an almost unstoppable force – her pragmatism nicely balancing his idealism. Mara had been his companion, his wife and lover, and to a certain extent, his impetus to continue to work at restoring the Jedi and fulfilling the promise he had made to his masters.

To that very day, Mara's past was a closely guarded secret, known only to himself, as well as Han and Leia – further disclosure was pointless, they had decided, and would only lead to difficulties with a government which was constantly prowling for any and all scapegoats who could be blamed for the years of Imperial rule. To Luke's way of thinking, Mara had been conditioned and programmed to be the person she had been and through it all, she had managed to keep her innate goodness intact and finally break free from the Emperor's casual tyranny. Her penance, if such a term was to be used, was a life of service, rebuilding what had been lost. Luke could think of no greater mission in life.

Although Luke would have preferred to keep her past a secret from everyone but the two of them, Mara had insisted she would not begin a life with him, without disclosing who she really was to his nearest relation. Through Luke's misgivings, she had remained adamant and had made her confession to both Han and Leia, the day Luke had announced their engagement. It had taken Leia a while to come to terms with what she had been told, but after a long and protracted, not to mention tense, conversation, they had ended up crying on each other's shoulder, weeping for the circumstances which had led them to the lives they had lived, but also joyful in their shared love for Luke. The past buried behind them, they had become the closest of friends and confidants, to the extent that it had been Mara who had ultimately convinced Leia to overcome her distaste for her father's life and consent to enter into her Jedi training in earnest. Leia still kept her position on the Senate's inner council, but her focus had been increasingly on her Jedi studies. To say Luke was overjoyed with his sister's acceptance of her Jedi heritage was a gross understatement.

It had been also Mara who, contrary to the prevailing opinion at the time, had insisted the restoration of the Jedi order and the fulfillment of his promises took precedence over all other concerns. She had argued that there were many who could fill the roles of starfighter pilot, commander of Rogue Squadron, and the other duties he had been performing. However, as he was the only one who could rebuild the Jedi, it only made sense for him to withdraw from those other duties and concentrate on his true calling. At first Luke had resisted, but after a heart-to-heart talk with Mara, during which they discussed the situation at the time, political, military and social, she had eventually brought him around to her way of thinking.

It had been difficult – there had been many in the Alliance who saw his resignation of his commission a betrayal, yet he had stood firm, insisting that in the long run, the Republic would benefit more from a newly constituted Jedi order, than from the efforts of two lone Jedi. Politically, Luke had felt the effects of some of the different factions vying for power. Some, Mon Mothma chief among them, remembering the times before the Empire and the effect the Jedi could exert, supported them wholeheartedly, while others could not understand what they could not know, and opposed the funding Luke needed. And then there were the third group, far worse in Luke's opinion, who saw the Jedi as a tool to be controlled. Yet, between all the factions, Luke had been able to secure the funding and support he required and although many had objected, the newly constituted Senate majority had won out, and Luke had turned his attention to his new calling.

Between them, he and Mara had divided the task of building up the order into three general categories: recruiting others to join the Jedi ranks, finding a new home to house themselves and their new recruits, and the creation of a new training regimen. The final task had been the most difficult and was still in progress. Luke's training had been rushed and incomplete, whereas Mara had been trained only in those things her master had deemed essential for her role. Together, they had been able to put their experiences together and come up with a more complete picture. Then Mara had added her physical training – hand-to-hand combat and weapons among other disciplines – and their training and curriculum had begun to take shape. Also, knowing the Jedi's former role as ambassadors and mediators, they had brought in others to teach them these skills. It had taken some time, but now Luke finally felt he was better able to handle the demands of being a Jedi and to contribute to the effort of once again building the Republic up from the ashes of the Empire.

Luke sighed, looking around once again. The training program was still very much a work in progress and there were always more things to be done than time to do them, but all their hard work was starting to pay dividends. Although Luke and Mara still did most of the training between the two of them, others of their more advanced students had started to take on some of those responsibilities, particularly with the newest recruits, allowing them to focus on some of the other tasks which required their attention. Their continued focus on rebuilding the order had been a continuing sore spot in the government; Luke and Mara had decided from the beginning that although the presence of the 'last Jedi' always seemed to be required, whether it be for diplomatic missions or settling disputes, rebuilding took precedence. He had refused many requests for assistance, claiming his schedule would not allow it, and had instead concentrated on his Jedi duties. Now, however, as some of the other recruits had started taking over some of his training load, both he and his wife had been able to take a more active role on the galactic stage. And although it always seemed to be Luke whose assistance was required, they had begun sending out some of the more advanced students in his stead, to allow them to gain some much needed experience, to take some of the load off of their shoulders, but also to force the Senate to get used to the fact that it would not always be Luke who would answer their summons. There was no point in reconstituting the Jedi if Luke himself was to always be the one to accept missions.

Finally, the internal workings of the order had begun to take shape, once again allowing Luke to pass off some of his duties to others. The leadership was still handled by himself and Mara, but Luke looked forward to a time when there would be enough Jedi for him to formally recreate the Jedi council as it had been in the past. They both looked forward to that day with great anticipation.

The sound of footfalls alerted Luke to the presence of another in the entrance hall, and he looked up to see Mara approaching. Smiling widely, Luke gazed at the picture of his wife, taking in her brilliant hair and slim, athletic figure. She had changed so much from the angry, bitter young woman he had first met and had matured into the person she was today. She still carried herself with an air of confidence and almost Han-esque cockiness, but now it was tempered with a peace and contentment – the knowledge she was now accepted, respected and loved for the person she was. He was once again struck with just how lucky he was to have her – her assistance and support had been invaluable

Rising to his feet, he greeted her with a sweet kiss on the lips, before pulling her down to sit next to him on the bench. With a sigh of contentment, she leaned into Luke, putting her head on his shoulder, while reaching across and taking one of his hands in her own.

As they sat on the bench, Luke glanced down at his wife, seeing in her profile, the slight curvature of her lips as she sighed and smiled in contentment. Luke smiled down at her, thinking to himself that he was the only one to whom she would show this side of her personality. To the rest of the galaxy, except perhaps Han and Leia, she presented a calm, cool and business-like demeanor. Luke had more than once heard comments to the effect that it was remarkable he had not died from frostbite due to his marriage with the 'Ice Queen' of the Jedi. Not fazed at all by the comments, Luke was more than happy to be the recipient of her affection – the rest of the galaxy could go hang itself.

Another part of his wife's anatomy drew his attention – the small, only slightly rounded swell of her stomach, which was still only beginning to show after almost five months of pregnancy. When they had last gone to the medical center, Luke had expressed his concern that Mara was still not really showing, but the medidroid assured him it was not unusual for a woman to remain quite slender during the early to middle stages of her first pregnancy. She was certainly nothing like his sister.

The thought of Leia and her state of mind brought a chuckle, once which unfortunately did not go unnoticed by his perceptive wife.

"And what is so funny, Mr. Jedi?" she asked, even though she already had a hint of his thoughts. They had grown so close that their exchange of thoughts was almost automatic; the ability to talk through their bond was second nature and hiding things from each other had become problematic at best.

Luke shrugged. "I was just thinking of Leia. Here you are, barely showing, while Leia is as big as a bantha."

"She _is_ more than three months further along than I am, and she is carrying twins."

"I realize that. But even when she was at your stage, she was still noticeably showing, whereas if I didn't already know you are pregnant, I would never have known. I have it on excellent authority she views you with a certain amount of envy."

"She _has_ had a lot more trouble than I have – for that I can only thank the Force," she replied with a shrug.

At Luke's soft chuckle, she pulled her head off his shoulder, raised her eyebrow and glared at her husband, a challenge glinting in her eyes.

_Apparently you find something else amusing, dear husband,_ she spoke directly in his mind. _Do share._

_Oh, nothing really,_ Luke responded in like fashion. _It's just that I've had several acquaintances comment on how you have handled this pregnancy and how you seem to have avoided most of the traditional side effects._

It was only the truth – Mara had almost literally glowed with vitality and good humor ever since they had found out she was expecting. It was as though she had finally found herself and was now reveling in her impending motherhood. The fact that she had had no morning sickness, tiredness, or anything else to mar the experience, had certainly not harmed her demeanor.

"Most people seem to think that between you and Leia," he continued, speaking out loud again, "you would be the one to be difficult to live with rather than her. Han's almost ready to go back to his old life smuggling – Leia's been driving him crazy with the moodiness, accusations, and cravings for odd food combinations."

Mara's expression grew stony and she sniffed in disdain. "I'm well aware of the prevailing opinion of my personality, Luke, and it doesn't cause me the slightest concern. And Leia does have an excuse – those twins are taking a lot out of her." She was silent for several moments, tracing patterns in his hand, which she still held between both of hers. "I saw her the other day," she finally said with a laugh. "She looks about ready to burst."

Grinning in response, Luke pulled her back onto his shoulder and settled into the bench. "Yeah, she's tired of it and just wants to get it over with. I heard her tell Han he'd lose his fingers if he ever laid another hand on her."

Laughing openly, Mara nuzzled into Luke's chest. "Well, she was a lot less complimentary when she threatened another part of his anatomy when I was there."

"I guess we can't really compare your situations then," Luke responded cheekily. "We'll just have to wait until you have twins – then we can compare notes."

Mara jabbed him in the ribs painfully, a scowl firmly etched on her face. "Not on your life, Skywalker. One at a time, please."

Luke smiled at her playful tone, grateful they had not yet reached the point of her threatening him with bodily harm to prevent more children. Although they had never talked about their family in terms of number of children, he knew they both wanted more than just this one. Mara's solitary upbringing, devoid of any semblance of a childhood, coupled with his own separation from Leia while growing up, made them both aware of the fact that neither would willingly force this baby to be an only child.

"What happened at the council meeting?" she asked, abruptly changing the subject.

"Oh, the usual – budgets, rivalries, and the latest rumors of a new leader taking control of the Empire's military. I swear we've had everyone but the Dark Lord Revan himself returned, rumored to be taking over leadership of the remnants of the Empire."

"Didn't you know? That particular rumor made the rounds a couple of months ago."

It was Luke's turn to scowl at the cheeky response and poke Mara in the ribs, to which he received a most unsatisfying murmur of protest from his wife. Try as he might, Mara Jade Skywalker did not squeak, no matter how much he tried to make her.

They sat in this attitude for several moments, before Mara, whom Luke sensed was becoming uncomfortable on the hard bench, stood up and dragged Luke to his feet. "Well, this is nice, Luke, but sitting in the entrance hall on a hard bench, is not exactly my idea of comfort, when we could be sitting in our quarters."

"Your wish is my command, milady," Luke responded with exaggerated gallantry.

A slow, sultry smile spread over Mara's face, as she gazed at him happily. "Very nice, husband dear. Keep that up and you may just find a pleasant surprise waiting for you when we get back to our quarters."

In response, Luke cupped his wife's face in his hands and kissed her, a deep, loving kiss, to which she responded by deepening it and circling her arms around his waist, pulling him in tight.

When they parted, Mara gazed at him, tears of emotion shimmering in her eyes. "Have I ever thanked you for loving me? For everything you've done for me?"

"Have I ever thanked you?" Luke challenged in response.

Laughing, Mara took his hand in her own and started dragging him off to their quarters. "I guess we both have a lot to be thankful for."

"Indeed we do, Mara – indeed we do."

As they strode through the halls of their new home, Luke reflected yet again on the twists and turns of life, thankful for the circumstances which had brought them together, while equally thankful he had had the foresight to see her for more than she had appeared.

**The End**


End file.
